I'll Follow You Anywhere
by WorldsGreatestDefective
Summary: A year into his break from the team, Nightwing reflects on his memories of Jason, from his first meeting to their last moment. However, when a mission sends him and the other bats to Infinity Island, Dick finds that perhaps not everything is left to memory. What are the al Ghuls up to, and why does one of their warriors look so horribly familiar?
1. Chapter 1

So, this is the first fan fiction I've written in about ten years, but the pull of Young Justice could not be helped. I feel like I need to re-acclimate myself to using fandom characters rather than my own, so this first chapter is a bit of a tester. Not to mention a bit quickly written because I just wanted to see where inspiration took me. As such, I changed a few things mid-writing and attempted to catch any discrepancies, but things happen.

Also, quick note - the title is based off a quote Jason says to Donna in the comics. I figured it fit his character, at least in my mind. Who the heck knows at this point since he's been changed so many times.

Oh, and I don't own anything. Hope you all enjoy!

* * *

**August 27, 2017 20:34 – Bludhaven**

It was strange to him how most people thought anniversaries were supposed to be a positive thing. First dates, weddings, graduations, births. In the team's case, Dick reminded himself they had just celebrated their seventh anniversary a little over a month ago. Seven years. It was difficult for him to fathom sometimes that it had been that long since Wally, Kaldur, and he decided to hell with orders and assigned themselves a mission. The night was a bit of a blur… though being drugged and nearly crushed by a collapsed building helps with that, in hindsight. Still, that's one of the anniversaries worth celebrating.

Seven years. He should be happy. Whelmed, even. Pleased with the efforts the team has made since their stupid stunt at Cadmus nearly got them all killed – first by Blockbuster, and then by Batman. He could still feel the ache in his shoulders from all the chores he got as a result. Soon the deep ache was joined by something more pressing, more painful. It was damn near impossible to stay positive when he couldn't help but think about those other anniversaries.

Wally… and Jason…

It was three years to the day that he last saw his little brother. Three years since he last heard his crude sense of humor, saw him sucker punch a thug hard enough to rival Superboy, and heard him put on that tough-guy persona he pretended he owned.

Dick's jaw clenched at the memory. Jason had been there with them less than two months earlier, celebrating July 4th with more chili dogs than should be legally consumed in a single sitting. He had _just_ been there, finding room for the cake M'gann made, ribbing Wally, flirting with Donna. Then, in a matter of days, gone. Changed from an "is" to a "was" thanks to a crowbar, a clown, and enough explosives to level a building.

In the weeks leading up to it, Dick knew Jason had been having a hard time, but the younger boy had put on a brave face. That day's session with Black Canary must have helped.

For almost a year, Batman had given him required weekly meetings Dinah, though whatever was spoken between the two of them stayed between the two of them. Dick could guess some of it, but… Jay started to clam up in those last few weeks, and Dick hated himself for not pushing harder. Now the unasked questions seemed to hang in the air, heavy like the ash and smoke that had consumed the rubble the young teen had died in.

The weight of the memory nearly choked Nightwing as he stared at his computer monitor. If he had known what was going on in that head of his, maybe he could have stopped Jason. Maybe he could have convinced him that he didn't need to go alone, that he had help. That he always had help.

Part of Dick knew his brother understood that. Jason had known it from the day they met. Dick was his big brother. _I __**am**__ his big brother_, the former Boy Wonder reminded himself. Present tense. Just because the younger was gone, it didn't mean the role got taken away. It didn't erase all the first times, last times, or in-betweens they laughed over or fought over.

Like the first time they met. That was an anniversary worth remembering. Then again, it wasn't like he could ever forget it.

* * *

**February 3, 2011 22:16 – Gotham**

"Easy enough," probably should not have been his choice words before he left the Bat Cave that evening. Yet, here he was, standing in Crime Alley—the biggest pit in Gotham City—freezing his tail feathers off. And, as if that weren't bad enough, he just mentally gave himself tail feathers. That's what he got for being a so-called robin. He really ought to just keep his beak shut.

_Darn it! Stop. Focus._

With a newfound resolve, he pressed down on the com in his ear, willing his voice to stay steady. "Batman? Batman! …Great." Where was Miss M when he needed her? Rolling his eyes—invisible behind his domino mask—the Boy Wonder cursed his recent reliance on the team's preferred method of communication.

Not that he typically needed any method of communication with his mentor. Usually the pair could exchange whole conversations with a nod and a shrug. Batman had even perfected the art of giving Robin a full-out lecture with a simple lowering of his eyelids, and Robin had perfected the art of skirting around the lid-lecture with a grin. Nothing else was ever needed.

Now, though? Now would be a great time for the Dark Knight's terrifyingly gruff voice to bark in his ear. To tell him he was being reckless, to give him some absurd order, anything!

_Okay, stay whelmed, Dick. Think._

Robin surveyed the area surrounding him: a myriad of broken bricks, trash, and filthy rags joined the piling snow already graying in the city smog. Winter in Gotham was like hell freezing over. And, no, it did not make for a winter wonderland. Rather, it created a near white-out (or gray-out), blinding the bird of his targets and, fifteen minutes ago, his mentor. More than his mentor. His pseudo-father… Okay, not now. He couldn't think about that now.

With one last survey of the area, he brought up his gauntlet computer and double-checked Batman's GPS coordinates. The red dot blinked a few blocks north, though it wasn't moving. No real concerns there. Batman was the most insufferably immovable person on the planet, especially during a stakeout. It was the flickering of Robin's screen and the lack of any other signals that threw him off. If there were ever a time to get sufferably moveable, it was now.

Unfortunately, Robin had been strictly told to wait for the man's signal, and warned about repercussions should he go against orders. It was rare when anything more stringent than a simple, "Stay put," had been uttered by Batman these days, but tonight had been different. Tonight, some of Two-Face's former two-bit thugs were getting in over their heads, and Batman suspected their involvement had less to do with city-wide politics and more to do with a certain world-wide organization. After all, what did small-time thugs need with shipments of enough radioactive substances to cause a World War III-style meltdown? More to the point, why them?

What the Light or Injustice League might desire from said thugs was beyond them, but Batman's orders were clear. They did not know what sorts of backup may be on the way within moments should their suspicions prove accurate, and Robin was still nursing a recent injury to his ribs. Heck, the only reason he had been allowed out so soon since the injury was due to the seriousness of the situation. The last thing he wanted to do was screw it up.

Then again, while Robin had no desire to have his wings clipped for a few weeks, he couldn't help but wonder if staying hidden was the best idea. Clearly the man had meant for him to stay out of sight as long as things were going as planned.

Too bad nothing ever went as planned.

Which is why the Boy Wonder felt completely justified in taking a running leap off the building and propelling himself through the alleyways in an aerial dance fitting for a life-long acrobat. The rush of crisp air bit into his lungs and burned his eyes, the snow whipping his face, but the sensation of flying let him forget about his discomfort. His nerves eased ever-so-slightly at the familiar sensation as he back flipped off a fire escape, landing on a low-rise next door. It was the only thing that kept him calm as a slew of curses sounded two stories below.

"What the heck is that?!" a voice yelled, deep and throaty like he smoked three-packs a day and ate another for breakfast for kicks. From the looks of him even this high up through the dingy skylight, tobacco was probably the only vegetable this guy was getting.

Next time Alfred made broccoli, Robin vowed he would clean his plate.

"Nothing!" another yelled, this one more nasal, the accent indicative of a life-long, inner-city Gothamite. "I'll take care of it."

"You better! If it's that damn kid... Last thing we need to be worrying about is some brat's daddy issues."

Wait, had they spotted him? That was impossible! Okay maybe possible… he probably should have toned down the flipping a bit. Crime Alley got dark, but not so dark people couldn't see some insane kid doing layouts and somersaults from building to building. He could hear his pulse in his ears as his eyes scanned the area, the boy pressing himself low and hoping they merely had a general idea of his whereabouts. That would buy him a few minutes to gain his bearings.

The low-rise looked to be some sort of storage facility, long-since defunct thanks to the downturn of proper business in this part of town. Now, every other building in a twenty-block radius, it was used primarily for illicit activities. It was like it became mandatory for three-fourths of these buildings to have a seedy old sign, chains, and a few chairs just in case some poor schmuck needed a good torture.

He just hoped the next victim wasn't himself or, especially, Batman. They needed to regroup and find out what in the world was going on with their signals. Provided Batman was still functioning, of course, and not currently tied-up thanks to the selection of chains from Street Lackey R Us.

Robin watched as Idiot Thug Two growled at his partner, storming toward a side door. Oh…kay. Totally the wrong direction if they were looking for him. He couldn't see who the lackey was looking at through the door, but he could gather a few hints about the person based on the gangster's stance. The visitor was shorter judging on the downturn of the moron's neck, probably from the area based on their earlier exchange and the body language, and—

Clearly whoever it was had a bone to pick. Something flew through the air, hitting the thug sharply in the nose. Before the Tweedle Dee could help Tweedle Dum, a more familiar sight flashed through the air, tackling the thug to the ground.

Batman. A sigh of relief Robin didn't even know he was holding escaped his lungs, lessening the pressure in his tightened chest. He didn't take too long to bask in the realization that his mentor was, indeed, alive. Instead, he took the cue and crashed through the skylight, using the metal bars to swing himself onto the second-story balcony and down onto Idiot Thug One. Hey, out of all of the things he had been taught, sometimes it was how to make an entrance he liked the most. A performer through and through.

Now, this was more familiar. Strangely comforting, even, considering they were punching the living daylights out of someone. No weird tech readings, no radio silence, no unseen threats. Just plain old butt kicking. Dick let out a laugh as he struck Tweedle Dee in the jaw, sending him flying.

Of course, one glance at Batman told him this was no laughing matter. Lowered lids and a scowl gave him all he needed. _You should have stayed put_, was written all over his cowl.

_But something was wrong_, he tried to gesture, though who the heck knew how it came out. Dick was pretty sure his expression of eyebrow knitting and a half-cocked frown could also be read as teenage angst.

_Later_, his mentor silently told him, then went back to the matter at hand. Or hands, considering the one-two punch he just gave his current punching bag. When Tweedle Dum was just the right amount of dazed, the Dark Knight pulled him up by his collar so the man's nose was two inches from his own.

"Who are you working for?!" he growled.

"I ain't telling!"

Dick rolled his eyes as the man played the stereotypical tough guy act, though the man's legs were shaking and he seemed two steps from pissing himself. Not that he could blame the guy too much. Batman was terrifying enough from afar. Having the bat punch you square in the face repeatedly while snarling in that gravelly voice he had must have been downright terrifying.

The Boy Wonder shook off the thought and busied himself with retraining the man's partner. He looked a little worse for wear, but not nearly in the same condition as the other one. Maybe he could get some answers, prove to Batman his interrogation skills were improving.

Too bad he never got the chance. His gauntlet computer suddenly activated and an alarm in his mask screamed an alert. Apparently he wasn't the only one suffering from the interruption, either. Batman's own bad cop routine was cut short as the sensors in his cowl flashed warnings behind his eyelets.

Someone was attacking the Batmobile.

* * *

Hope everyone enjoyed! Here's hoping I get back into the swing of fan fiction writing and can keep this up!

-Defective


	2. Chapter 2

Wasn't expecting to follow-up this quickly, but I couldn't quite seem to help it. Here's chapter two! Thanks for the reviews, follows, and faves! Hope this continues to entertain. :)

* * *

**February 3, 2011 23:05 – Gotham**

This had to be a joke.

Robin looked over the supposedly untouchable tank that had so faithfully served them for years. When it faced falling buildings, flying bullets, and countless acrobatics care of a certain Mr. Grayson, the Batmobile didn't produce a dint. Not a single scratch. Hell, not even a smudge.

And now some punk had just stolen her hubcaps.

It was a her, right? Dick never quite posed the gender question to Batman, but he knew most men gave their cars a feminine designation. Even Wally had dubbed his sputtering 1996 Camry "Sasha". It was better than Conner's suggestion of "Car", at least.

Whatever its gender, if it even had one, the Batmobile had clearly suffered a huge injustice tonight at the hands of what clearly had to be a criminal mastermind. No one had gotten that close to the car, let alone managed to disable its first set of alarms from the outside, for as long as Dick had been Robin. Maybe even earlier. Batman himself looked shocked. Shocked as Batman _could_ look, anyway.

This really had to be a joke. But, why the heck would anyone just steal the hubcaps?

"Distraction?" Robin asked, peering up at his mentor while they finished running any just-to-be-sure style diagnostics. It wouldn't surprise either one of them if the person who had managed to trip and disable the alarm had also left behind a nasty surprise. "Maybe there's a third thug we didn't know about."

"Doubtful," Batman grunted. "Intel said two, and their surprise said otherwise."

That was true enough. Once Two-Face's former cronies registered their captors were momentarily preoccupied, they adopted wild, almost feral looks and attempted to writhe their way out of danger. No such luck. Batman gripped his Tweedle twin even tighter, practically snarling fire at the audacity of trying to get away.

No, their attempts to free themselves were unplanned and unfocused at best. At worst, downright stupid and sloppy. Robin almost felt bad for his own thug when he made an awkward crab-walk movement that lasted all of two seconds before being subdued once more. What part of restrained did those guys not understand?

Without the time to sit and chat about poor life choices, Batman grabbed a pellet from his belt and threw it at Tweedle Dum just as Robin did the same to Tweedle Dee. The police could take care of them. Interrogations could wait until more pressing matters had been dealt with.

It had been quick. Easy. Well, _easier_ than the previous half hour of waiting and wondering. The whole subdue and run back to the car thing had taken no more than five minutes, tops. The Batmobile's security functions could keep any potential thieves occupied for at least ten, and that was for the most skilled Wayne Tech genius.

Lists of questions scrolled through Robin's mind as he tried to make sense of the whole thing. None of these managed to make it out of the young teen's mouth. A glint caught his eye, his hyper-vigilance pulling his attention away from the car and up toward the shining beacon that had just called to him.

The punk was smart. He had to be in order to pull this stunt, but he was downright terrible at the quiet getaway bit. Dick watched as the small, shadowy figure worked its way up a nearby fire escape, leaping from the rusted metal of one level up to the bottom rung of another. The movements were shaky and unpolished, but promising. Especially considering it was all done with his second arm preoccupied with steadying four glimmering hubcaps against his body. Hubcaps the size of his torso, the bird saw.

"Batman," was all he needed to say. The man was up like a shot, following the thief from fire escape to fire escape. While the shadow was quick, Batman and Robin were quicker.

They just weren't as desperate.

The figure turned around, and in the moonlight Dick caught sight of a boy that looked no older than ten, and that was being generous. He knew he had no right to talk, but at least at ten Dick looked like he had eaten a square meal within the week. With the bones showing through on this one, it was a surprise the boy could even lift the stupid hubcaps.

"We're not going to hurt you." said Batman.

In that moment, Dick knew Batman had noticed the same thing that he had. It was about as likely as fairies flying out of his butt for Batman to be consoling on the job. He must have noticed the gaunt features and wild eyes. More than that, he saw fear buried under a savage determination.

"Yeah, right!" the boy shouted back. Without so much as a second glance, he turned on his heel and continued running, stopping just a moment to throw one of the hubcaps like a frisbee in their direction. The metal saucer ripped through the air, whistling menacingly. Robin had just a moment's notice before he ducked down and narrowly avoided a gash to the forehead.

"Watch it!" Dick shouted, narrowing his eyes at the brat. There went feeling bad for him. "Did you see that?!" he finished toward Batman. Rhetorically, of course. Batman saw all.

Except, maybe not. When the Boy Wonder turned to face his mentor, he saw the Dark Knight had disappeared. Somewhere, Robin knew this had happened before he even looked up, but he curses his senses betraying him more than usual.

While the boy felt off, he still could sense what his mentor's plan was. It was just taking him longer than usual to act on it. Stupid ribs. Stupid tech glitches. Stupid thief. The brat was now a full building ahead of him, preparing a leap onto the next roof. Guess now he would have to swing through the streets to catch up. He smiled at the thought. At least this was bound to put him back in his element.

Again, the rush of freezing air filled Robin's lungs as he raced down the street, keeping a keen eye on his target. The gray surrounding him made it difficult to maintain visual, but the occasional glimpses of moonlight helped. Not to mention the boy was wearing out. As good as he was, as fast as he could be, the boy lacked something very, very important—

_He_ wasn't trained by Batman.

The kid hesitated on his next jump just a fraction of a second too long, allowing Robin the chance to take a hard left and swing into him. Perhaps a bit too roughly, but maybe it would make the little jerk think twice about stealing again.

A string of vile curses erupted from the smaller boy as he sprang to his feet. In between the slew of vitriol, the bird managed to catch something akin to, "What the hell is your problem?!"

"Do those belong to you?" Robin asked, gesturing to the remaining three hubcaps.

"They do now!"

"According to what?"

"Finders, keepers!"

Jeez, this kid really _was_ young. Who the heck said that past fifth grade?

"Your law degree tell you that?" Disk asked, arching an eyebrow behind his mask.

"Go to hell!" the boy snarled back, preparing to toss another of his prize winnings.

Only he didn't get the chance. Out of the corner of his eye, Robin saw the batarangs flying toward his assailant, a rope connecting both. Before the younger boy could exclaim yet another curse, he was bound and squirming on the roof like a fish out of water.

"Let me go!" he screamed.

"Fat chance," said Robin.

A guttural yell fitting of insane cat roared from the punk's throat. "I'll kill you!"

Batman took that moment to lean down and send the boy a look. No words. No threats. Just a glare. That was all it took for the boy to go still.

"I didn't mean _actually_ kill," he added for good measure.

"Don't make threats you can't carry out," Batman advised.

"Uh… sure. Noted."

Batman and Robin exchanged a glance before the elder asked a simple, "Name?"

"Bruce Wayne."

A burst of laughter erupted from the bird before he could suppress it. At least the subsequent scowl from his mentor helped him get back under control pretty quickly. Still, even he knew Batman must have appreciated the humor of the situation. Not that he would ever let it show outwardly.

"Want to try that again?" Batman asked instead.

"Peter Parker?"

Robin pinched the bridge of his nose at that. "Dude, seriously? Marvel?"

"What? Okay, fine, Wade Wilson. Deadpool's cooler, anyway."

"Maybe, but—"

"Boys!" the bat growled.

"Sorry," they both muttered sheepishly.

Batman got close to the kid once more, practically nose-to-nose. Jason could feel his breath on his neck, as if he were preparing to bite right into his jugular. The look of horror on his face betrayed his thoughts that this guy really might _be_ a bat. The vampire kind like those dirty books in the library talked about.

"Jason. Jason Todd," he answered.

Batman sent another look toward Robin, silently asking if it were another pop culture reference. Bruce Wayne did a good job of keeping up with business, finance, the economy, politics, and sometimes theater. The state of the world and the balance of the market took precedent over what pop star or action hero was the next big thing. He needed Dick for that.

"Nope, seems legit," Robin shrugged.

It was all the confirmation the Dark Knight needed. Armed with that, he leaned down one last time to ask the kid something that would forever surprise them all…

"Are you hungry?"

The mention of food somehow both softened Jason and made him that much more suspicious. Not that Robin could blame him considering he was still lying with his face pressed against the roof's floor, his arms pinned to his sides. "You can't be serious."

Batman didn't need words to answer. His narrowed eyelets told the boy just how serious he was.

"Uh… This isn't one of those, 'We're going to have you for dinner,' jokes, is it?" Jason asked, his eyes nervously shifting between the two. "Because, I really might kill you, then."

Robin chuckled, shaking his head. "As if you could. Relax, we're not going to eat you. You're too scrawny. So, yes or no?"

Jason appraised the pair of them for a moment, his internal argument over swearing and attempting to get away in spite of his lack of arm use versus the idea of a hot meal was being played out in his changing expressions. Food, as it often does, won.

"Yes. Starved."

_That_ Robin believed.

They were certainly a sight. One street rat, two super heroes, and three hubcaps sitting pretty in the corner booth. The waitress quickly thought it best not to ask questions. This wasn't the kind of place that patrons were really appraised all that much, anyway. The diner and staff within were honest about the neighborhood they were in and the sorts of people they served. Though, it was a bit strange to have someone on the _right_ side of the law in there for a change…

"Here's the deal," Batman started, "You tell us as much as you know, and we give you ask much food as you can eat."

"You're playing a dangerous game, pops."

"Try me."

Jason gave the man a sideways glance, as glaring past the cowl and the stern expression Batman held to find just how serious he was. Apparently satisfied, he gave a nod. "Fair enough. Nothing 'til the food comes, though."

"Then no food."

"Anyone ever tell you that you play dirty, old man?" Jason snarled.

"Pops? Old man? How old do you think he is?" Robin asked, watching the pair in their stare down. It was like the world's most awkward tennis match. He knew who would win, but Robin would be lying if he said he weren't impressed with out long this mousy brat had lasted against Gotham's vigilante.

"He talks like he smokes a pack a day and has lines where he's frowned too damn much. He's not exactly approaching twenty," Jason answered, grabbing the menu as soon as it was placed in front of him. "So, whatever I want, huh? You mean that? Anything is fair game?"

"Fair game," Batman nodded.

"You asked for it. Okay, so, shoot. What do you want to know?"

Dick knew he should have let Batman ask the questions. This was his show, after all. Robin was well aware of his strengths and weaknesses (at least, _he_ thought so), and he knew his mentor was a far stronger interrogator. He totally knew this.

Okay, just because he knew it, it didn't keep his mouth shut.

"What the heck were you doing stealing hubcaps? From the _Batmobile_. Seriously. For all you knew, it could have had a flamethrower for an alarm."

Batman sent his protege a look, but Jason only smiled. Leaning back into the booth with a smug grin, the boy offered, "It wouldn't have. Batman doesn't kill. Everyone knows that."

"No one ever said anything about the Batmobile killing," Robin pointed out.

"Touche. And I needed them. Next question," said Jason.

His posture changed at that, stiffening as his limbs pulled themselves inward. It reminded Dick of a hermit crab retreating into its shell.

He made sure to keep his voice lighter, lower this time. Remembering his sessions with Black Canary when she played team counselor, Dick attempted to mimic her stance and tone. "What did you need them for?"

"None of your business," Jason huffed, crossing his arms.

"Jason," Batman said. Though still harsh and gravelly, somehow there was a softness to the man's tone and Jason's arms fell slightly. "We had an agreement."

"I wanted to sell them. Do you know how much those things would be worth around here? People around here would sell their first-born children for two things—drugs and decent car parts. Besides, really, you need to stop parking in the same place every other week. I know you like to patrol Crime Alley regularly, but you have _got_ to start changing things up. You're lucky I got there before someone else with enough sense to get past that stupid alarm you've got. People around here may be dumb as bricks, but they know how to punch straight and they're learning how to disable the security from some of those crazy, European cars. You need to upgrade, fast."

Batman grinned at that. Honest to goodness smirked. Batman. Robin had to look twice just to make sure the cloud of exhaustion rolling over him wasn't making him hallucinate.

"Thanks for the advice," the man said.

"Sure thing," Jason shrugged, once more curling into himself.

Thankfully, the waitress took that time to come by and take their orders. At the very idea of food being a real, tangible thing in his future, Jason brightened and began rattling off menu items like he was ordering for a sports team.

"I want two chili dogs, a plate of fries, a cookies and cream milkshake, one of those brownie things, and whatever soda you've got. Surprise me."

The waitress sent him a look, eyebrow almost into her hairline. "What? No bacon cheeseburger?"

"Nah. Watching my figure. Oh! But you can put bacon and cheese on the fries."

"Whoa! You could put my friend Kid Flash to shame!" Robin laughed. "You really think you can eat all that?"

Jason adopted another smug look, his arms now settling comfortably on the table, his posture easing. "That a challenge, big bird?"

"You know what? Sure. I dare you to—"

Before he could say exactly what he dared (and it would have been totally a good one, too!), Batman cleared his throat, ordered small meals for himself and Robin, and sent both boys a glare. There went their fun.

Robin had momentarily forgotten they were still technically on the job. It felt good to talk to someone who was close to his age. Reminded him of hanging out at the mountain after a mission, before he got too tired to function and retired to the quiet safety of Wayne Manor.

Wayne Manor. Home. The idea of it gave the boy a pang in his chest as he looked over Jason. He looked even thinner in the flickering lighting of the diner, his black hair flipping in all directions and dark circles decorating the area around his blue-green eyes. Smudges of dirt were scattered over his face, clothes, and hands, interspersed with spots of drying snow. Now that the Boy Wonder could get a good look, he realized the younger boy barely had anything more than a pair of jeans and a hoodie to ward off the cold.

As if reading his mind, Batman looked between the two boys and asked, "Where are you staying?"

"My home," Jason answered simply.

"Where is that?" Robin asked.

The boy shrugged. "Home."

"Jason," Batman almost growled. "We need to make sure you get back to whoever you live with safely."

"We won't tell on you, if that's what you're worried about," Robin added quickly. "Just don't steal anymore hubcaps and we'll call it a wash."

"No promises," Jason shot back, almost snapping if his voice didn't hold an edge of sad bitterness. "No one to tell."

Robin prepared to ask where his parents or guardians were, where he spent his nights and who took care of him, but Batman placed a hand on his shoulder. With the gentle pressure, he immediately understood. There was no one else. Nowhere to really go, no one to really take care of him. It was plain as day in his clothes, the bones showing through his skin, the pain in his eyes.

Jason Todd was alone.

Mentor and protege exchanged a glance. This boy is what may have happened to Bruce Wayne if he didn't have trust funds and a family name that practically screamed money. He was who Dick Grayson may have turned into if Bruce Wayne hadn't been there that night at Haly's Circus to witness the fall of his family. This boy was what the fallen children of Gotham looked like before they turned into savage, broken adults.

He was both what was wrong with the city, with his hardened features and tired eyes, but he was also what was worth saving. Both of them saw it. In spite of the hell the city had given him, in spite of how close to destroyed he looked, there was an almost spiteful determination and incontrovertible humor buried beneath the scar tissue.

And the city didn't need another broken adult.

"One more question," Batman promised, his almost consoling voice forcing Jason to look him fully. "Do you want a place to stay for the night?"

"What's the catch?" Jason asked, eyes darting between the two heroes.

"No catch. Just a deal. If you come with us, you don't steal and run off. We're trusting you here—"

"That's brave of you…"

"—and in exchange you get free reign of the kitchen," Batman finished, ignoring the interruption. If there was one thing the detective could read about this kid, it was that he was too smart to bite the hand that fed him.

"You're going to regret that," Jason said, his eyes brightening at the thought of a fully stocked kitchen at his mercy. "Don't say I didn't warn you."

"We'll consider ourselves warned," Robin chuckled as their plates were set in front of them.

As if that was enough assurance that they wouldn't go back on their word, Jason immediately dug into his trough of food. Chili, milkshake, cheese, and various greasy bits practically flew in all directions as the boy seemed to transform into a member of the Flash family.

Okay… maybe they might regret the kitchen offer a little.

* * *

Reviews would be much appreciated! Thanks for reading!

- Defective


	3. Chapter 3

I'm sure I'm going to run out of steam soon enough, but for now here's another chapter. I can't quite seem to make myself stop... It's a bit of a problem. Once again, thanks so much for the reviews/follows/and favorites! I really appreciate them! They definitely keep the steam going.

* * *

**August 27, 2017 20:51 – Bludhaven**

"Nightwing? Nightwing, you there?"

The voice broke through Dick's stroll down memory lane, bringing him back to his warehouse headquarters. Probably for the best, too. He didn't exactly want to think about how sick Jason got after he destroyed the food in front of him. To say Alfred had an interesting introduction to the kid was an understatement…

"Come in, Nightwing," the voice sounded again.

"Here, Robin," Dick finally answered, shaking off the last remnants of his daydream. "Everything okay?"

"Technically speaking, yes."

Nightwing rolled his eyes, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. It always felt jarring, though oddly comfortable, to be reminded of Jason and Tim within the same moments. Tim was so careful with his words, so calculating of his actions, and Jason… well, he could calculate when he really wanted to. Tim was all logic with a big heart buried underneath the numbers and figures. Jason was the exactly opposite, wearing his heart on his sleeve but careful when he felt the time really called for it. He could even hear in Tim's voice how carefully he was planning out the entire conversation that had yet to take place, whereas Jay would have leapt before he thought of the first word.

"Technically speaking? Does that mean the computers are working but everything else is falling apart?"

"I wouldn't exactly say 'falling apart,' but we could use your help with something, if you're available."

"Is 'we' the team or the bats?" Nightwing felt the need to ask. He would, obviously, help either way, but the answer would help mentally prepare him for the evening ahead. It was like two different worlds in spite of so many overlaps. He had to get into the right mindset if he was going to be useful to anyone, and that required knowing what was in store with his company.

He could hear Tim shifting over the com. "Both, I guess, but mostly us, Barbara, and Steph. Miss M, Conner, Kaldur, and Artemis are coming, but Batman wanted to keep this mission more… personal. Some of them had to argue their way into a spot."

Uh oh. There were only a few people that could make his mentor (Former mentor? No, still. Always.) use the term personal in regards to a mission. The fact that only the most senior members aside from the bats were going spoke volumes for what they were in for. Judging by the inflection of his little brother's tone, he could tell Batman was even reluctant to bring along that many, including Spoiler, the newest member of their bat clan.

"Joker?" he asked, immediately tensing as he spoke the word.

"Talia," Robin answered.

"Damn."

"Yeah."

Nightwing almost hated himself for wishing a little it were Joker instead. At least that one would be clean-cut in spite of the horrible feelings that would inevitably erupt from one, if not all, of them. Talia was another story. A tangled web of hate, love, and metric ton of advanced weaponry.

"All right, where am I meeting you?" he said, his voice already adopting its former-team-leader sound. If the mission was on, he was Nightwing one-hundred percent until informed otherwise.

"We'll meet you. Batgirl is prepping the batwing, and we'll be there within twenty," Tim answered.

Nightwing let out a laugh. "You already knew I was coming, didn't you?"

"Had a feeling. Batgirl was willing to place bets, but no one went against her."

At the mention of seeing Barbara, the former Boy Wonder couldn't help the smile that spread across his face. Okay, maybe the Dick Grayson side of him hadn't left completely for the night. Still, he had to focus.

"You going to tell me more about what we're dealing with?"

"Batman will give you the rundown as soon as we get there. Robin out."

Well, this boded well.

* * *

**February 4, 2011 01:27 – Gotham**

"I don't think I've ever seen that color before."

Robin peered down at the mess in front of them, torn between laughing and feeling bad for the street rat and his digestive pyrotechnics. Though, he felt worse for Alfred. More accurately, he felt worse for Alfred's shoes, which had gotten the full treatment by the odd vomit now splayed across them.

Jason had begun feeling feverish in the Batmobile, but it was really the flashing lights as they entered the cave mixed with the food he had consumed that had pushed him over the edge. As soon as his passenger door was open, the boy emptied the contents of his stomach just outside the car. It wasn't really his fault he hadn't prepared for the butler to be waiting there just as he projectile puked chili dogs, cheese fries, and all the nitrates a person could stomach—or couldn't stomach—onto his Italian leather shoes.

And, to his credit, Alfred looked about as shocked as he would have been if the boy simply coughed in his direction.

"Are you all right, sir?"

"I am now," Jason mumbled. "Uh… sorry."

"It's quite fine. Come on, up you get," the elderly man said, helping to lift Jason up to a standing position, straightening his clothes and taking a good look at him. Though Batman had enough sense to warn their faithful butler ahead of time that a guest was arriving, Robin was still surprised by how stoic the man could be, regardless of their surprises.

Or maybe he was just so used to it all that nothing could faze him anymore.

Batman and Robin exited the Batmobile on the other side, careful to avoid the mess now decorating the cave floor. Together, the four of them approached the medical area where a table was already set with anything Alfred may need for a routine checkup. Apparently upon hearing they had a street urchin in their care, the butler had decided it prudent to at least check on the young boy's health. Who knew when the last time was anyone checked on him? The puking certainly didn't help paint the most healthy of pictures.

"I suppose I have you to thank for the young man's current state," Alfred said, sending an accusatory look toward Batman.

"I only bought him a meal," he defended.

"Actually," Robin added, "you kind of bought him three."

Batman sent a glare in his direction, and Robin decided it would be best to busy himself with checking all the medical supplies.

Jason, on the other hand, was busying himself with checking out _everything_. His eyes widened as he finally got enough of a hold of his stomach to really appreciate the scene around him. While part of him was not at all surprised the Batman's secret lair was a massive cave filled with enough gadgets to shame Interpol, the rest of him was in awe of both the sheer size of it and just how many beeping devices filled the intimidating structure.

Of course, more than anything, he was shocked to find—

"You have a T-rex in here?! Holy shit! And... alright, you're rich beyond belief, or you're doing dirty things with someone to pay for all of this, but you have a giant **penny** in the middle of this place? Is that, like, symbolic or something? Metaphorical for life and what really makes a man rich, or some other crap?"

"Mostly, it's just cool. It's a giant penny. Tell me the last time you saw one," Robin shrugged.

"And watch your language," Batman added.

"Yeah, yeah," Jason said, waving off the reprimand, too preoccupied with the scene to really care about being offended or embarrassed about being corrected by an oversized nocturnal rodent.

"Alright, Master Todd, up you get," Alfred said once he was sure the young boy had appraised the Batcave enough. The butler patted the table in the universal gesture of "hop on."

"Master?" Jason asked, sending Alfred a look. "You're joking, right?"

"There is no joking in the cave, young sir."

"Oh…kay… Sure," he said, indeed taking a seat and even quietly allowing Alfred to look him over. Truth be told (though he would never actually _tell_ anyone), it was kind of nice to have someone momentarily care enough about him to make sure he wasn't dying. It was a little weird to have a stranger listening to his heart as he sat in some hero's secret headquarters, though.

"If you so much as think of performing medical experiments on me, I'll punch you in the throat," he warned.

"Quite intimidating," Alfred returned. "Open your mouth."

Jason shot him an uneasy look but did as he was told. For several minutes, old reliable Agent A did all the basic procedures: pulse, blood pressure, temperature, etc. The boy couldn't help but marvel at the idea that some people got this done regularly.

"You're not charging me for this, are you?"

Robin rolled his eyes and took a seat nearby. "Not everyone is out to get you, you know."

"Sure they aren't."

Realizing the young hero had no real counter, Alfred decided it best to change to subject entirely. "Are you two going to remain in those costumes all night?"

Robin sent a wary glance toward Batman, the man giving him a nod in return. Then, without a single word, they both dropped their respective masks.

"Fu—"

"Language," the former bat/current billionaire interrupted.

Jason at least had the good graces to look sheepish, if only for an instant. "But, you're Bruce Wayne. And," he started toward Dick, "you're Ryan Gosling?"

"Richard Grayson, though I go by Dick."

"…Really?" Cue the all-too-familiar judgmental stare.

"It's a family name," said Dick.

"It's a—"

"We are all aware of what the other meanings of his name are, but on this property it is simply his name and **only** his name. Understood?" Alfred said.

"Um, sure. Dick it is."

Within an hour, Jason was given a relatively clean bill of health and escorted up to the manor and given a brief tour.

"My room is just over there if you need anything," Dick offered.

"Okay… Thanks."

Once more, Jason began to retreat into himself as they progressed farther into the wing. He peered into various open rooms and stared at the occasional painting lining adorning the walls. Dick knew it had less to do with an interest in de Chirico and more of a defense mechanism. After all, he had behaved the same way on his first night in the manor.

"Feel free to knock if you need anything," the older boy felt the need to offer, gesturing toward his own bedroom.

"Yeah. You bet."

They both knew he wouldn't.

Jason told himself he was going to stay for just one night. Then two. Then three. Before he knew it, he had stayed for a week. In that time, he had managed to gain a couple of pounds, play his first PlayStation game, and eaten his first real steak. Bruce had given him his first words of advice ("Just close your eyes and take a deep breath. You'll feel better, I promise."), his first real scolding ("You're eleven and know better than to take one of the swords to play with!"), and his first real possession.

"It's mine?"

"It's yours."

The birdarang was similar to Dick's but with a few slight modifications. Thought neither of them had spoken of any interest in Jason's potential foray into the hero business, it was still awfully fitting. Especially since the birdarang looked a hell of a lot like a tricked-out, miniature hubcap.

"I…It's…"

"I figured you were good at throwing; you could use something of your own to toss around," Bruce said, smiling down at the stunned preteen.

"Bruce…"

Dick saw the boy's startled expression, heard his speechlessness, and realized neither was going away any time soon. "Whenever you want, we'll test it out in the gym. Target practice," he said, breaking the silence.

"Yeah," Jason muttered. Then, seeming to find his voice again, his eyes brightened and every muscle seemed to leap to attention. "Yeah! Maybe a competition. I gotta be able to beat you in something."

"Fat chance! I've got two and a half years more of living than you do, not to mention almost five years of Robin training."

"I hear you talking, but all I'm hearing is how scared you are to take me on."

"Yeah, right. Name the time and I'm there."

A smug little grin stretched across the younger boy's face as his fingers tightened over his gift. "I'll see if I can pull myself away from my busy schedule, but how about before patrol tonight?"

Dick laughed, his voice carrying through the upstairs hallway of the manor. "You're on."

* * *

**August 27, 2017 21:09 – Bludhaven**

A beep sounded nearby, signaling an incoming transmission. Without Miss M, Dick still managed to have a psychic link with the person he knew was contacting him.

"Hey, Babs. You here?"

"ETA two minutes. And it's Batgirl now, bird boy."

"I'm not on the mission yet, so you're still Babs to me," Nightwing returned.

He could practically sense her shaking her head, rolling her eyes at him and trying her best to hide her smile from the others. "Yeah, well the world doesn't revolve around you. The mission started, so get your head in the game."

"What game are we playing?"

"Risk," she replied.

"Please tell me you two aren't flirting over the com. You know we can all hear you," Stephanie said, Tim letting out a quiet laugh nearby.

"Sorry, Spoiler. Alright, game on."

* * *

A little shorter this time, but I figured that was about all that was needed for now. Don't want a scene to wear out its welcome. I hope to have another chapter up some time this weekend. Until then, happy reading!

-Defective


	4. Chapter 4

So, this is a bit of a "fluffy" chapter before we really get into Jason's tenure as Robin and into the darker side of his early life. I thought it was necessary to show a bit of the adjustment period, which I feel like YJ Bruce would have wanted to make sure he had.

Anyway, I hope you all like it! As usual, reviews are always appreciated!

* * *

**February 20, 2011 04:17 – Gotham**

Two weeks. The boy had been there for just over two weeks, yet it was just now that Dick was seeing pieces of the unguarded Jason Todd. For the most part, the boy from Crime Alley still managed to keep a protective wall up, hiding his thoughts and feelings behind snark and humor. Yet, as time wore on, the acrobat was able to catch small glimpses of someone else well-practiced in putting on a show.

At night, just when he and Bruce returned from patrol, was really when he saw Jason's walls crumble the most. Initially it was little things—sad looks or a voice talking to itself behind a closed door. Sometimes he could hear small feet pacing well past midnight, or catch sullen looks and awkward fidgeting when mentions of future engagements for Bruce and Dick came up in conversation.

It wasn't until the third week that it all came to a head.

Another nightmare. Dick was far too used to them by now, but it didn't make them any easier to stomach. Once again he was forced to relive his family's deaths, see his uncle practically break apart but somehow cling to some remnants of life. And, once again he was jolted awake in a cold sweat before he made his way down to the kitchen. Midnight snacks tended to dull the pain his all-too-frequent nightmares would bring.

He hadn't expected to see Jason there, perched up on one of the counters as he fished through their abundance of cabinets.

"Looking for something?" Dick asked.

The shock of the sudden interruption in silence caused Jason to lose his balance, toppling sideways to the hardwood floor. Dick winced when the boy hit his arm on the way down. No way that wasn't going to bruise.

"You scared the shit out of me!" Jason snapped, sitting upright and holding his injured arm. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

Okay, he had felt bad until the little jerk snapped at him. "What's wrong with me? You're the one skulking around down here. What are you doing?"

"What's it look like? Getting food," Jason answered.

And that should have been that, except Dick noticed the pile of food sitting next to where the boy had been just a moment before, the bag (_his_ bag!) open next to it along with a few articles of clothing they had lent to him over the last few weeks. It didn't take the world's greatest detective to figure this one out.

"You're running?"

"I'm not running anywhere," Jason said defensively, dusting himself off and rubbing his sore elbow. "I'm leaving."

"Funny, it looks like you're running."

"Actually, it looks like I'm standing here. What's it to you, anyway? Look, I… I've already been in your hair long enough, okay? I know when I've overstayed my welcome. I just needed some supplies before I got going."

All right, now Dick was back to confused. He liked to consider himself pretty smart—not to brag, but he was technically a genius, after all—and usually he knew how to read people. This? This was throwing him off. Where was this coming from?

"You haven't overstayed anything, Jay," Dick replied.

Surprise, fleeting but very much there, flashed over Jason's features. Then it was gone, leaving irrational anger in its wake. "Don't call me that. My name is Jason, and I don't belong here. I need to get out of here before one of you remembers that and kicks my ass to the curb."

"No one is going to kick your ass anywhere, Jason. Well, except maybe in the gym. Did something happen? Did Bruce say something, or Alfred? If you did something to piss them off, just relax. They'll calm down and talk to you about it. It's not worth leaving over."

Dick had expected his words to at least calm the younger boy enough to give him a straight answer, but instead he received a flying jar of peanut butter zooming toward his head. Ducking at the last minute, the jar thudded roughly against the kitchen island before crashing to the floor.

"You don't get it, do you?!"

Angry, hurt, or whatever, Dick didn't care. If Jason threw one more thing at him or yelled at him one more time, he really was going to kick his ass. Probably all over the kitchen.

Thankfully, he didn't get the chance. As soon as the yell burst from Jason, someone else cleared their throat nearby. Without a single word spoken, both boys knew Bruce was there, lurking in the shadows.

"I…" Jason started as Bruce stepped into the kitchen lighting. "I was just…"

"Running."

"Would you two stop saying that! I'm leaving. Thanks for everything, it's been real, all that crap, but it's time for me to go. I know it, you know it, and I know you know it. This was never permanent."

Bruce stepped closer to Jason, the boy retreating until his back hit into the counter. As tough as he was, Dick knew how intimidating his guardian could be on tough criminals and Wayne Enterprises board members. From experience, he knew it was much worse for an eleven-year-old kid.

When Bruce got close enough, Dick saw Jason flinch, as if preparing to be knocked sideways by the behemoth of a man. Instead, Bruce knelt in front of him to see eye-to-eye. He had used this stance a few times with Dick, mostly in his early days in the manor when he was still adjusting to his new family, and the older boy knew why the man was using it now. He saw as Jason relaxed, his face changing from anger and fear to simple curiosity.

"If you want to leave, Jason, no one is going to stop you, but it would be irresponsible for me to just let you go without knowing where you'd be going to. Do you have somewhere else in mind?"

"Back where I came from," he answered.

"The streets?" Dick asked, earning a look from the other two.

"Where else? It's where I belong."

Bruce shook his head, slowly reaching out to put a hand on Jason's shoulder, like a person would reach out their hand for a skittish dog to sniff. Upon realizing the man wasn't going to use his fist to lay into him, the child's posture eased and he pulled himself away from the support of the marble counters.

"I can't just let you run back to the streets, Jason. Someone needs to take care of you. Watch out for you. I can take you to one of the children's homes in the city. I've donated to quite a few over the years, and I'm sure they'd be able to make room for you."

"You kidding? Me go to a home? Those places are dead ends and you know it! No one wants a kid my age, and I'll end up being tossed around until I age out of the system. It's how things work. I'd rather live on the streets."

Dick sighed, lifting himself up to perch on the island. "I still don't get why you can't stay here. What's wrong with here?"

"I told you—"

"Yeah, you don't belong or something. Who told you that?"

Jason looked between him and Bruce, struggling to find the right words. "No one… Not outright, anyway. But it's coming, and I'd rather leave on my own terms than get kicked out on someone else's."

"Jason," Bruce said, his voice firm, "no one is going to kick you out. If you want to go somewhere else, I am happy to make other arrangements, but the offer stands for you to stay here."

"But… you just took me in for a little while. This wasn't permanent," he repeated.

"Do you want it to be?" Bruce asked.

The look of utter shock on Jason's face almost made Dick laugh out loud. Thankfully, the seriousness of the situation kept him down to just a smug little grin.

"You can't be serious," Jason finally said.

"You say that a lot for someone who has gotten to know me well enough to know how serious I am," Bruce replied.

Jason took his time evaluating the looks he was getting from Dick and Bruce, chewing his bottom lip raw. He wanted to stay. Dick saw it written all over his face, but he could also see the uneasiness. The uncertainty of relying on someone else.

"If it helps, I ran away a little after I first came here, too," he felt the need to offer.

The younger boy looked up at Dick in surprise at his confession, Dick smiling as he kept going. Maybe the story would help.

"It was about a month in and I kept hearing about how Bruce had taken me in as a charity case for good publicity. I figured he was going to just dump me the minute I stopped making his name look good in the papers. He had promised to help me track down the man that killed by parents, but I thought he was just saying that. His reputation, you know?"

Jason nodded, apparently also aware of the fickle, playboy reputation Bruce had adopted. He had learned over the last few weeks that Dick's real parents had been killed, though he had yet to pry about the particulars. After all, then they would pry into his. He knew the Graysons were murdered, and that's all he needed to know. For now.

"Anyway, he swore I was able to stay here as long as I wanted. Promised he wasn't trying to replace my parents, but he'd be willing to be another one if I was willing to have him. And, that was that. Well, I was grounded for two weeks for sneaking out at three in the morning, but mostly that was that," Dick finished with a laugh, looking up to the smiling face of his father-figure.

A hopeful look crossed Jason's face, but it quickly darkened once more. "I'm nothing but street trash, though."

"And I'm a circus freak. He's supposed to be some idiot playboy. See how this works?"

Hesitating, his fingers twisting around themselves, at long last Jason looked up to Bruce with wide, inquisitive eyes. "You want me to stay?"

"I wouldn't have offered if I didn't."

Dick was worried the boy's face was going to crack with how wide he smiled at that. Nodding, Jason climbed back onto the counter and began putting the food away.

Of course, he couldn't resist asking, "If I stay, does this mean I can train to fight crime, too?"

It took a couple more weeks of convincing, but Bruce eventually allowed Jason to partake in the intense training that had led Dick to become Robin. Parts of it came naturally to the boy, and parts were an agonizing struggle. Dick could see his foster brother was better at hand-to-hand combat than he had ever been starting out, but his technical know-how could use a lot of work. It was clear from the get-go that Jason had barely even used the internet, let alone worked up any hacking skills.

Still, in spite of a lot of cursing and some thrown objects, Jason eventually began to understand the basics. Determined to ace every subject of his training, he often stayed up in the cave until Batman and Robin returned from patrol, bleary-eyed as he struggled to bypass yet another firewall.

Hero training wasn't the only thing he was getting. In between playing butler, doctor, cook, engineer, tailor, and confidante, Alfred now played tutor to the boy who had a spotty education, at best. They were all relieved to see he was naturally intelligent and eager to learn. Perhaps not eager to do homework, but at least interested in understanding various complex concepts and meticulously researching until he discovered an answer.

It was this intense focus that had him battle and book ready within six months.

* * *

**August 7, 2011 09:45 – Gotham**

"Registration is tomorrow morning, so I want you both up and ready to go by 8:00," Bruce informed the boys as they sat down to a late Sunday breakfast.

Jason groaned, almost falling out of his seat with how far low he sank. "Why can't I keep homeschooling? I do all my homework—" Insert a cough from Alfred as he prepared the pancake batter. "I mean, I do most of my homework, and you've seen how good I do when it's just one-on-one."

"How _well_ you do," Bruce corrected.

"See? You said so yourself."

"Jason," Bruce grunted, sending the boy a look. "Dick and Barbara will be there, and it will do some good to get in more social interaction. This is the perfect year for you to start. With Gotham Academy starting in 7th grade, you'll be in with the rest of the newcomers. You'll get to navigate through the next few years together and build up some camaraderie."

"Did you really just say that?" Jason asked, Dick laughing into his orange juice.

"Wait 'til you get into high school. He turns into a brochure when he talks about college and your future. I don't know how many ways you can use the words 'pave', 'success', and 'horizons', but apparently it's over fifty."

Bruce glared at the two of them, still adjusting at how often the boys ganged up on him.

"Do not make exaggerations, Master Richard," Alfred called from the stove.

"Thanks, Alfred," said Bruce.

"He merely said those words thirty times. It was 'future' he mentioned over fifty," the butler continued, Bruce letting out a low growl and returning to his coffee and newspaper.

Both boys let out a laugh at the man's expense, though soon Jason returned to his sour look and moping. "I still don't see why I have to go. Dick and Barbara are going to be in a whole different building, practically opposite of where I'll be."

"It's not that far," Dick assured him. "Besides, I'll get a free period when you have lunch, so we can hang out sometimes when I don't need to study. That should help."

"Yeah. Maybe," his younger brother muttered, looking anything but convinced.

"Besides, kids in your grade will be there tomorrow and you'll get to meet people before your birthday. If you make friends, I'm sure you could invite them over. I'll even invite Babs and Artemis," Dick added, smirking when he saw how much his plan to perk the boy up had worked.

"Seriously? I can invite people over?"

Bruce put his newspaper down at that. After six months, sometimes he forgot they still had these moments where Jason could not quite comprehend what it was like having a real home with a real family. Even for stoic Bruce Wayne, it was downright heartbreaking.

"Of course you can invite people over. We'll discuss it after orientation tomorrow."

"In other words, you're bribing me to behave."

"I never used those words," Bruce pointed out, conveniently finding a news article he was suddenly interested in.

"You didn't have to, boss," Jason laughed, exchanging a knowing glance with Dick. Batman may have been near impossible to read, but sometimes Bruce was way too easy.

* * *

I saw somewhere that Jason's birthday was August 16th, and I'm assuming a school like that has some sort of early registration date even if it starts in the beginning of September. Either way, probably one more "fluffy" chapter coming up soon. Hope you all enjoyed this one!

- Defective


	5. Chapter 5

And, here you go! Another chapter, and more hopes you'll enjoy this installment.

Also, quick note about TrisakAminawn's comment about the foster care situation - short answer, yep! Bruce had a sort of in, I'm sure, thanks to Dick, which allowed him to take in Jason. Some of this is just based on my friend's situation as a foster sister where her mom tended to have an "in" thanks to being a previous foster mother. Also, a lot of kids seemed to fall through the cracks, including a couple of old friends of mine, so I feel like Bruce with his money and situation may have had an easier time than even some of those to get more kids. The legal questions tend to be a bit boring for people, but I'm sure he would have had enough sway financially and due to his history to legally gain custody of Jason. Hope that satisfies any questions or concerns!

Thanks again for all your support!

* * *

**August 27, 2017 21:15 - Bludhaven**

"You took your sweet time."

Barbara—Batgirl, now—stared him down with a hint of a smile.

"Had to make sure I was ready."

"Preening? You really are a bird, aren't you?"

On the surface, it was just a typical chat between old friends. A little light banter and nothing more. The too-perfect grin on his face and overly playful tone in her voice betrayed their true feelings to those that knew them best. Today was hard on all of them.

"So, where are we headed?" Dick asked as he swept inside the plane.

"Infinity Island," she said.

"Bringing the fight to their doorstep?"

"Something like that."

Before he could even ask about Bruce, Barbara was already leading him to the cockpit. It was one of the many reasons he loved her. Without a single word, they could have an entire conversation. The few yards to the plane's controls were filled with unspoken sentiments.

"_I've been thinking about him_," Dick thought.

"_I know. Me, too_," she seemed to say.

"_I miss him_."

"_Me, too. We all do_."

Dick ran a gloved hand over his face, his new blue finger stripes gracing his worn eyelids. "_How's _**_he_**_ holding up?_"

"_You know how he is_," she said through her gaze.

Nightwing inwardly winced at the confirmation of his worst feelings: Batman was dark and brooding enough on a good day, but tonight was going to be so much worse. Mentally preparing himself, he had enough sense to wave in greeting to Robin and Spoiler as he passed by. He paid closer attention to his brother, watching for signs of pain he, too, was inevitably feeling. Though Tim hadn't had as much time with Jason, he was still Jason's little brother and still idolized the boy he had known as Robin.

The aisle to the controls seemed to expand. All too quickly or all too slowly, he couldn't figure out which, Nightwing was standing beside his mentor. Without a word, the eldest son closed the cockpit door with one last grateful nod toward Batgirl and took a seat at the co-pilot's wheel.

"Batman," he said in hello.

"Nightwing."

"Good to see you."

"You, too."

Silence overtook them as they took off, Nightwing monitoring the controls that came as second nature to him now. It wasn't until they reached 30,000 feet that he dropped the hero act just a little.

"I need you to do something for me," he voiced, barely above a whisper.

"What's that?" Batman's low voice, more harsh than usual, almost robbed his protégé of his courage. Almost.

"I need you to tell me how you're doing."

"I'm fine, _Nightwing_," Batman said, emphasizing the last part in his not-so-subtle way of pointing out that now was not the time. They were on a mission. Jason would have to wait.

* * *

**August 16, 2011 12:54 – Gotham**

Dick was distracted. He had known for days he was distracted, but he figured it was for good reason. At least, part of it was for good reason. No way in hell was he talking about the other part. It might throw off patrols, and that was the last thing he wanted. Though, it did make deciding on the boy's present a bit more difficult, but there were more important things to deal with first.

He had never seen Jason look quite so… excited. His bratty little brother was _actually_ excited. He really hoped Alfred had managed to sneak a picture so he could use it as blackmail against the younger boy later.

And, to think, he had expected today to be letdown.

For the most part, their orientation a week earlier had gone off without incident. That was the good news. The bad news? Aside from a few minutes with some chuckleheads that had dubbed their group the "Hit Squad," Jason spent most of his time avoiding the other kids. They were all perfectly primped and in their Burberry or Brooks Brothers, and made it perfectly clear with their glares what they thought of Jason. Bruce had just managed to get him into a few sweaters from Gap. Even that had been a battle. When Jason's birthday had finally rolled around, Dick was worried the whole day would turn Wayne Manor into Wounded Knee.

"The cake will help," Barbara assured him over the phone. "And Artemis said she and Bette would come. Dad said he'd swing by, and isn't Lucius working on some present for him? It'll be fine."

"No one in his year is going to be here, though," Dick fretted.

"He doesn't know anyone in his year, yet. You didn't really expect him to become best friends with someone at GA's orientation day, did you? There's always next year. You know, after he's had _time_ to make friends? Until then, everything is going to be okay. Relax. He's at least having a party. I feel like that's a huge step up from what he might be used to."

She was right, as usual. Dick knew it. That didn't stop him from worrying. It also didn't help the bird had other things on his mind.

And, of course, Bruce would wait until his happy little guard was down before asking about it. There he sat, spending way too much time at the desk in his room stressing about the party due to take place in a mere few hours when his guardian knocked on the door.

"Babs? I gotta go," he said, knowing full well from the sound alone who it was.

"Sure thing. See you soon," she said, hanging up just as his bedroom door opened.

Sure enough, Bruce strolled in and took a seat on his bed, already dressed like he was attending a gala instead of some twelve-year-old's birthday party.

"Are you going to tell me what's wrong?" Ah, Bruce. Right to the point.

Dick spun around at that, party favors forgotten. "What do you mean?"

"Richard," was all the man needed to say.

"Nothing. I mean, I'm worried about Jay's birthday. He really only knows us, Alfred, and Barb. It's not like I can really tell Artemis much, even if she did know him, and it's not like anyone else coming is really coming for him. They just want another excuse to see your house. Doesn't make for much of a whelming party…"

Bruce chuckled lightly at his foster son's favorite word, nodding. A few quiet seconds passed, and Dick could see the man struggling with the right words to say. Uh oh… usually when he was being careful, it was a bad sign.

"I meant what's wrong with _you_," Bruce finally voiced.

Cough. Wide eyes. "Huh?"

"For weeks, even months now, you have been unfocused. Especially over the last few days. Are you okay?"

Well, this was a surprise. Today, he was supposed to focus on Jason, not on his own feelings. Judging by the look on Bruce's face, the surprise factor was what the man was waiting for in order to get an honest answer without any made up words or defensive laughter. Sometimes, Dick hated how well Bruce knew him.

"I'm fine."

"Richard," he repeated firmly.

Dick turned away, his bright blue eyes glancing down at his desk. "I had an idea for Jason's present, but I wasn't sure how you'd like it."

"And, why's that?"

To say he was anxious was an understatement. Dick pulled and picked at his hands, staring at nothing in particular in an effort to look anywhere but at Bruce. There had only been a handful of times where they had played this game where Dick avoided the questions and Bruce pried gently for an answer. Mostly it revolved around family feelings. This time… Well, this time perhaps was the same. Dick wasn't quite sure.

"Dick, son, did something happen?"

Son. He called him son. Though he had said the word many times in his eyes and expressions, he really only said it aloud when the subject was serious. Very serious. It pulled Dick's attention away from the knot in the wood of his desk and toward Bruce's own blue eyes. So strange how alike in color they were, as if Dick really were his son. At times like this, where the man seemed to understand him far more than the boy expected, Dick wondered how much of a simple ward he really was to the prince of Gotham.

"Bruce… I- I need to talk to you about something."

His guardian made a slight nod and nothing more. Just enough to urge him to continue, but he did not interrupt. Dick almost wished he would say something, anything, to stop him from talking, but a part deep inside of him knew this was what was best. It was a long time coming. Ever since the failsafe exercise.

"I had an idea of what to give Jason for his birthday. But, Bruce, I need you to know this is… I just…" he began to stammer. He didn't even register when Bruce had gotten up, and only looked up when the man's hand rested gently on his shoulder.

"You want to give him Robin," he said.

Dick was torn between shock, fear, and relief. He knew? How did he know? The boy knew his posture, his expression, his everything was giving him away, but in the moment he didn't have enough focus or control to do anything about it. This, he discovered, was why Bruce had caught him off guard. No time to build up walls or create little white lies. Just the two of them and the truth.

"Yes," he muttered at long last, his voice barely audible above his heart heartbeat.

"You want to tell me why?"

Bruce's tone wasn't accusatory or hurt. If anything, it was even, almost comforting. Soft in spite of the deepness of his voice and how often he had used his words to scare the pants off of criminals. It was the only thing that kept Dick going.

"I love being your partner," he started, the words flying out of his mouth. "I need you to know that."

"I know, Dick," he said, hand still on his shoulder.

"It's just that, after a while, I realized… I-I knew that… Bruce, I…"

A deep sigh stopped him before he had the chance to really humiliate himself with more stammering. "Dick, before you go on, I want to ask you something," Bruce interrupted.

The boy's eyes glanced up to meet his father figure's once more, finding an ounce of comfort in the steadiness of the man's gaze.

"Have I ever given you any reason not to trust me? I want you to be honest right now. Is there anything I have said or done that has made you think you cannot come to me?"

A small pang hit the boy in the chest, filling his lungs with a chill. "No, sir. Never."

"Then why can't you trust me with this?"

Dick looked down, taking a deep breath in the hopes it would stave off the horrible prickling in his eyes. "Because I don't want to disappoint you," he finally mustered the courage to say.

He felt the strong hand squeeze his shoulder, a warmth filling him, replacing the chill that had been there just a moment ago. How could Bruce be so kind to him after he had said that? After all they had been through together?

Then, he realized, it was _because_ of everything that they had been through together. After all their ups and downs, Bruce knew everything about him. Every fear, every emotion, every feeling that coursed through him almost before he did, himself. Dick looked up with a misty blue stare, wondering how long the man had known he had wanted to give up his place beside him.

"A few months," Bruce answered his silent question. "I want you to tell me your reasons why and what you plan on doing about the team, though. Do you plan on leaving?"

"No!" Dick exclaimed. "I want to stay on. I just- I just realized that my mind has been elsewhere. Almost since starting the team with Wally and Kaldur, I have realized that what I want is different than it started out being. I still want in the hero business, I do! Being Robin has been one of the best things in my life. Really! But, Robin is a stepping stone. A part of something bigger. I just don't think I'm ready for what that is, anymore. I don't want- I don't want to be Batman, anymore."

There it was. The cold, hard truth. He shuddered saying the words, and had to tear his eyes away from Bruce's once they were out in the open. His mentor's stare was still fixed on him, though. He could feel it even now with his head down and the shame washing over him.

"Dick, kid, I never wanted you to have to be," he said, his voice more gentle than Dick had heard in years. Perhaps since his parents' death. Once again his gaze flew up to meet Bruce's, awe taking over his fear.

"You didn't?"

"No. This is my burden alone, Dick. I never wanted that for you. Whatever happens, whatever you choose to do, I just want what any parent wants."

"What's that?"

Bruce smiled one of his rare, genuine smiles. "For you to be happy. And, maybe to pull up your English grade a little," he finished with what could almost be a playful glint.

A tide of relief threatened to overtake Dick, and he threw his arms around the man before even knowing what had overcome him. "I thought you'd hate me!"

"Dickie, why would I ever hate you?" Bruce asked, almost sounding offended if he weren't so pleased about the boy's reaction.

"Okay, maybe not hate, but not definitely not be turbed."

The man chuckled. If Dick was using his made-up words, things were definitely improving. "Well, I'm not excited to be losing you as my partner, chum, but I'm happy you're paving your own way."

"And there you go with the paving again," he said, feigning a sigh.

"Watch it," Bruce warned with grin still in place.

"Yes, sir. I just think Jason might be ready. At least, close to it, and Batman needs a Robin. You've said it before, about how they're symbols. I can't just take that away, and I think Jason would make a great symbol. He's part of this city, more than I am, even. I'd be with you both until he was set, and then I could focus more on the team since it's getting bigger and we've been getting more missions. With the Light still out there and Roy still missing… we just have a lot on our plates, and I thought me giving more attention to it and letting Jason take over in Gotham might be the best of both worlds. I just hope he likes it and won't see it as me giving him my hand-me-downs."

"We'll find out tonight after everyone goes home. How does that sound? Whatever happens, we'll figure it out," Bruce said. Though Dick could see he wasn't thrilled about the idea of losing him, he saw something comforting in the man's eyes. He wondered for a moment if this was how a father looked when he realized his son was growing up.

* * *

**August 16, 2011 019:30 – Gotham**

Everyone was in place as their last guest filtered into the main living room where all the decorations were perfectly in place. Jason had been barred from the room since after lunch, and Dick could feel himself practically twitching at the thought of the boy laying eyes on it for the first time.

Just as the large grandfather clock chimed half past, he glanced around to check the area one last time. Artemis, Barbara, and Bette were standing by the couch. Though Bette looked like she might have had better things to do elsewhere, Artemis and Barbara seemed pleased to be there. Alfred was by the refreshments, occasionally checking to be sure the ice wasn't melting or other minor details weren't presenting a problem. Jim Gordon and Lucius Fox made small talk by the staircase, every now and then one of them looking around and seeming to wonder where everyone else was.

Dick felt his heart sink a little at the thought, but he plastered on a happy face when he heard footsteps. Within seconds, Bruce opened the door to the kitchen, his free hand on Jason's back as he gingerly pushed the boy forward. Suddenly, as the now twelve-year-old took one look at the room, a shout erupted from the small party.

"Happy birthday!"

Then, silence.

Jason stared at everyone, looked down, then took another passing glance before retreating back into the kitchen without so much as a word. Bruce and Alfred exchanged a worried look, but it was Dick that pushed forward and followed his little brother.

"Jay?" he called.

Jason had made it to the corner of the counter, just where he had been caught six months earlier stealing from their stores as he prepared to run. Dick wondered if he was about to do the same now.

"Jay, you alright? I know it's small, but everyone's really happy to be here. We even have the PlayStation set up to play Rock Band! Not that I'm any good at it, but I bet you'd totally beat me. Especially at the drums bit. Babs might kill at the guitar, though."

He was rambling. He knew he was rambling, but he couldn't quite stop himself. Not until he saw Jason look up with his watery blue-green eyes.

"Hey, don't be sad. It's okay. What's wrong?" Dick asked.

"It's all for me?"

Dick stopped dead at that. Had he heard that right? Apparently realizing the older boy hadn't caught on, Jason took a deep breath and pressed further.

"All that out there? That's all for me? The games, the presents, everyone out there? That's all for me?"

"It's all for you," Dick nodded.

Overwhelmed, Jason leaned against the counter, turning his eyes down once more. Dick could see the embarrassment of his reaction written on his little brother's face, but more than that was sheer happiness. People cared. No matter how small, how few guests, people out there cared enough to give him presents, set up games, and focus their attention on his stupid little birthday.

"I've never had a birthday party before," he felt the need to explain, if only to alleviate his humiliation.

"Well, there's a first for everything."

"Yeah, I guess so."

The boys exchanged a smile. After another few moments of composing himself, Jason nodded and let Dick escort him back out to his very confused guests, not to mention very concerned guardian.

"Sorry, I thought I smelled food burning. All of you are great and all, but the food is top priority," Jason joked as he stepped through into the living room. A relieved laugh filled the area, and Dick watched as Jason challenged the girls to join his new rock band.

While it was by no means the party of the century, to Dick it was definitely a party to remember. As promised, Jason had beaten him several times at Rock Band before they battled it out over Mario Kart. The best part had to have been when Jason blushed bright crimson when all three girls gave him a quick peck on the cheek. Such a lady's man. Yep, definitely his little brother.

Lucius had given him a brand new Wayne Tech computer that was practically invincible so his bouts of frustration wouldn't permanently damage the machine. Jim had gifted him a few video games Barbara had surely recommended.

Once ten o'clock had hit and three servings of cake had met their demise by the birthday boy, everyone said their last birthday wishes and left the makeshift Wayne family to their own devices. When the last light of the last car disappeared around the corner, Dick fished his gift from it's hiding spot in the cave.

"What the hell is he getting?"

"I am certain you will see soon enough, Master Jason. And, please mind your mouth. Birthday or not, there's a perfectly fresh bar of soup in the bathroom should you choose not to," Alfred threatened, though he knew it was mostly for show.

"Yes, sir. Sorry, Alfie," he said, managing to hide his grin until Dick returned.

The elder extended a plain box to his brother. "Happy birthday, Jaybird."

"Jaybird?"

"I figured it fit," Dick shrugged.

Jason rolled his eyes and pulled open the box. "Couldn't even be bothered to wrap it, could you. You know, I—"

His words stopped dead in his throat when he saw the bright red suit and yellow "R" staring up at him. Like with the beginning of the party, Dick wasn't sure how to read the boy's face. Not until Jason stared at him with the same look he gave him when he had leaned against the counter.

"Mine?"

"Yours. Congratulations, Robin."

"But… but what are you going to be?" Jason asked, his hands gracing the costume gently, as if worried his hands may damage the kevlar.

Dick just shrugged, sending a knowing glance toward Bruce. "We'll figure it out."

Jason nodded, his face cracking into another wide smile. Finally, grasping the costume tightly in his hand, he uttered the words they would all hold with them for years of both happiness and horrible pain.

"This is the best day of my life."

* * *

It couldn't be helped. That's all I have to say about that...

- Defective


	6. Chapter 6

Apologies for the slight delay! It's been a heck of a week, but hopefully you all enjoy this chapter. A few new character additions, but mostly just quick introductions. Happy reading!

* * *

**November 22, 2011 12:49 - Happy Harbor**

"Dude, he's what? Ten?"

"Twelve, Kid Jerk."

Dick sent a glare to his best friend as they lay on the couch in the living room of the mountain. Conner was, as usual, listening to the static of the television. At this point they had all learned to tune it out. Heck, they had almost gotten to the point of hearing actual voices through the white noise. Maybe they weren't so much tuning it out as going insane…

"Fine, so he's twelve. I'll hand it to you, you were awesome at that age, and I'm pretty sure it can go without saying that so was I—"

"Probably _should_ have gone without saying," Dick interrupted, signature smirk in place with his signature glasses.

"—but he's only been training for, like, six months!"

"Try almost a year, and he's already been Robin for a few months. Besides, this will be sort of like a… test, right? We've all been put through the wringer before joining the team, and even Zee visited several times before really joining. I think it would be good for him to meet other heroes his age."

"Older," Wally corrected.

"Closer to our age than Batman and Superman. Besides, Batman okayed it. You want to go against him?"

Dick knew using his mentor as a chip against the ginger speedster wasn't fair, but desperate times called for desperate measures. It didn't help Dick wasn't telling the whole truth about his desire to have Jason visit the mountain. Sure, some of it was for the current Robin to get a sense of what it might be like on a team and to add to his training beyond the Batcave. That was the easy bit to talk about. The hard part was admitting that his dear little brother was a lot more socially awkward than he had ever been, and had yet to really make a friend at school.

It didn't help the idiots at Gotham Academy looked at him like he was one of those puppies from the Sarah McLaughlin commercials. If not that, then like a flea feeding off of the richest man in the tri-state area. A few kids had even taken to calling him Flea. At least, until the day Jason realized they weren't comparing him to the bassist from the Red Hot Chili Peppers and he sent two of them through the windows of the science lab.

Jason had just gotten over his extensive grounding after the incident, and Dick believed an outing to the mountain was just what the boy needed. Not to mention he _really_ needed to learn how to play well with other kids aside from him, Barbara, and occasionally Artemis.

Dick barely registered with the speedster sighed, sticking his feet on the arm of the couch as if in some subconscious way taking a stance. "Fine," he muttered. "But keep him out of my stash. Last time I went to visit you, I left two bars unguarded for a minute and the next thing I knew they were all over his face."

"He's faster than you are when food is involved," Dick laughed.

"No one is faster than me when food is involved."

That's all the go-ahead Dick needed. The next morning, way too bright and early according to Jason, the two of them prepared to zeta to Mount Justice. Batman had registered a guest designation for Jason, and promised to give the boys plenty of time to just socialize without the risk of mission interruptions barring an emergency. And, of course, this included the countless warning to behave, mostly directing the last line to his younger ward.

"Who the heck do you take us for?" Jason asked, voice muffled as his mouth split into a yawn.

The look Batman gave them was all the answer they needed.

Dick sighed, zipping his blue hoodie and smirking as Jason chose that time to do the same to his own red one. "We'll be fine. Sunglasses are staying on, no weapons, no swearing, no fighting, no messing with the computers, no chemical experiments, no League eavesdropping, no sharp objects, rewiring _anything_, nor any explosives. Basically, a boring day for us. It's just a visit, Batman. We know how to 'conduct ourselves' as Alfred says."

"I seem to remember your first day on League property ending with a demolished building and Superboy."

"I still maintain you should have thanked me for that last part." Smirk.

"I still maintain you got off easy for the rest of it." Glare.

When it came to the Batglare, Dick knew better than to argue.

In a matter of moments, the boys stepped into the zeta tube, sneakers thunking against the large metal surface. By now, Dick was used to the zeta network and complete nonchalance settled over the elder brother. Jason, on the other hand, was about as used to zeta platforms as he was to rockets. His hands twitched at his sides, his blue-green eyes darting from the metal flooring to the cave computer and around the surrounding beams.

"Hey, you'll be fine," Dick assured him.

"Easy for you to say. I feel like I'm about to step into an episode of Doctor Who," Jason replied.

Before Dick had a chance to regret introducing Jason to the fantasy show, light erupted around them. Beside him, the other boy closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and waited.

Just like Bruce taught him to do.

**Nightwing, B-01. Robin, A-03. Authorization, Batman - 02.**

Another deep breath. Pause. Open.

When Jason's eyes adjusted to the new lighting, they drank in every inch of his new surroundings. The cavernous front room and hallways that stretched beyond, the computer in the center of the room being tinkered with by… uh… some dude with some serious arm tattoos, and, to the side, a green chick with a plate of cookies. Sure, all totally normal.

"Cool," Jason mumbled under his breath. He had seen J'onn a few times in Bruce's meetings with League members, and knew from pictures that the other member in question must be connected to Aquaman. Just because he was aware of them, however, did not mean he was fully prepared to not say something stupid. Such as…

"Are you floating?"

M'gann turned to look at the boy before she practically leapt. Well, she would have, if she weren't already in midair. Her levitation did not hide her levitating feelings, however, she she soon rushed toward the two birds.

"Are you Robin? The new one, of course. I mean, Robin is the other Robin. Sorry, _Nightwing_. I keep forgetting it's Nightwing now. Anyway, I'm M'gann, but you can call me Megan."

Jason struggled to keep from laughing, instead showing just how much good those etiquette lessons might be doing for him as he opted to reach out a hand. "Cool. I'm J— just really happy to be here. You can call me Robin."

"Of course! Robin it is. Would you like a tour around the mountain?"

It was nearly impossible for the boy to hide his smile then, but he manage to just keep it into grin territory. "Sure. A tour would be great."

For as uncomfortable as Jason was around Gotham Academy, he was completely in his element in Mount Justice. From the gym to the game room and to everyone that walked through its halls, it all felt… right. Comforting, even. He had never had a place feel so much like a part of him, except for a few rooms in Wayne Manor. Still, this place was for kids his age. Kids who understood what it was like to be what he was, feel what he felt. Maybe not exactly, but they weren't the rich, white-bread punks at GA. Hell, Aqualad had gills! Not to mention Conner had a worse temper than he did.

Then again, there was a part of him that felt a bit distant from everything. Dick could see it every now and then, the way his eyes would wonder or his face would adopt a melancholy look. He was tempted to ask him what was wrong, a bit torn knowing the boy might retreat into himself as he sometimes did.

Only, Jason surprised him by coming out with it first.

"So, this is where all your friends are."

_Your_ friends. Like a brick to his stomach, Dick suddenly understood the strange glances, the sideways looks down hallways. This was _his_ clubhouse. Not Jason's. And, as nice as it was to have him exchange smirks with Wally and try one of M'gann's cookies, they were all still more of Dick's than they were his. They always would be. He was, once again, the first. The eldest and the golden boy.

"Most of them. You've met a few at school, but here's really the most of it. We're adding new members every six months or so, though. So…" So maybe, one day, you'll have friends of your own. New people who haven't known Dick as Robin, who haven't been exposed to conversations on reworked English before they've been exposed to conversations on reworked car parts.

"You're really lucky, you know," Jason said, managing a smile that almost reached his eyes. Dick could see that Jason knew, in this moment, he was lucky, too. He was in Mount Justice with his big brother, dressed in clothes far more comfortable than what he had worn less than a year ago. Still, he felt like he was on the outside. More than anything, Dick wished he could show him just how untrue that was. If anyone belonged there, if anyone was close to Dick and could be an amazing team member, it was Jason. The former Robin was sure of it.

Dick opened his mouth, preparing to answer with an answer he had yet to prepare. Thank goodness he didn't have to utter a word when the computer announced their latest team member.

**Troia, B-12.**

"Hello?" a female voice called through the mountain, its tone light but strong. Like a song from a violin, it hummed a firm note that carried through half the mountain. "I know I'm early, but I figured it was fine to just… come on in."

Dick and Jason both shot up, meeting the girl just as she strode into the front living room. Immediately, Dick extended a hand out to her, his pearly-white smile stretching across his puberty-being-way-too-good-to-him face. "Whelmed! I mean, pleasure. I'm Nightwing. This is Robin. The others are around here somewhere. I think you've already met—"

"Kaldur, M'gann, Artemis, Conner, Tula, Tempest, Kid Flash, Zatanna, and Rocket. Am I missing anyone? I think you were busy when the initiation began. Also, do me a favor and if you hear Wally scream, trust me when I say he earned it. Just… look the other way. I promise he'll get over it with therapy."

"There's nothing that can fix Wally, even therapy," Jason uttered, earning a laugh from the raven-haired girl in front of him.

"Is it wrong to have hope?" she asked.

"When it comes to Kid Idiot? Nah. Mostly, he's harmless. Just don't leave any food within a mile radius. He can sniff it out. Then he'll eat it because he's got the sense of a brick, you'll end up punching his trachea because he asked for it, he'll end up in the med bay, and then it's just a lot of paperwork after that," Jason replied. "Though, if you happen to put Ex-lax in his protein bars…"

Troia hesitated for a moment, eying the boy before bursting out in laughter. "Ex-lax? I'll have to remember that. You're good. So, you're the new Robin, I'm guessing? Diana told me. You've joined the team?"

He was fine until then. Really. He had seen a lot of pretty girls (N_ot that pretty!_ his brain screamed at him), but Troia was like his best dream and wildest fantasy had a love child who could kick some serious ass. He practically had stars in his eyes! Not that it helped that she looked like she was covered in them.

"Umm…"

"He's preparing to. I'm sure you've heard about how Batman is. Only when he's trained enough to single-handedly prevent an apocalypse, then he can join the team," Dick shrugged.

Jason could kiss him right then. He wouldn't, but he could. He would just have to hope the look he gave his big brother covered his gratitude for making him feel less like a baby.

"Oh, right!" she exclaimed. "I better watch out for you, huh? Before I know it, you'll be giving us all a bad name as slackers."

"I don't think anyone could give you a bad name," Jason said.

Now was Troia's turn to smile, extending her hand out to him. "I'm Donna, by the way. Troia on missions, I guess, but Donna. You're… Robin, I guess. Just Robin, from what I've heard."

"Right. Robin." He never wanted to proclaim his secret identity so much before now.!

"Nice to meet you. I better go report for my training session with Black Canary. Hope to see you around some day, huh? Please tell me we'll see your face again soon. I wouldn't mind some new people to commiserate with," she said.

"Just whisper my name and I'll follow you anywhere." It was dumb. He knew it. But he'd be damned if he didn't believe every word that just came out of his mouth.

Dick stifled a laugh, expertly turning it into a cough. Donna chose not to cover her own laughter, either passing off Jason's comment as a joke or finding him too ridiculous to grace with a real comment. Jason wasn't sure which would hurt more.

"Promise?" she finished.

Well, then. Just like that, any hurt went away and he was smiling so hard he thought his face might break.

"Promise."

* * *

**November 26, 2011 17:05 - Gotham**

A few days later, Dick was still teasing Jason about his comment to Donna.

"What if she asked you to follow her to that chick flick that just opened? Would you follow her there?" he asked.

"Uh, Dick, do you know what happens in movie theaters? The lights go down, romantic music starts, and—"

"Boys, we're expecting guests," Bruce reminded him as he adjusted his tie. "Please don't say something about what happens in movie theaters. I don't want to hear it. I'm sure you don't want me to either if you want to go to the movies any time soon."

"You just love to ruin our fun, don't you?" Jason asked.

"It's my primary job as your guardian. Clause 1, Article A - Fun ruiner."

Jason clutched his heart, stumbling before collapsing onto the couch. "Oh, oh God… he made a joke. Bruce Wayne made a joke. Hell just froze over. I see pigs flying. The lights are so beautiful… Dick, I think I'm dying."

"Ha, ha," Bruce uttered, shaking his head and grabbing a pillow from the couch once his tie was fully adjusted. Gently whacking the boy in the leg with it, he tossed the pillow over the younger boy's face. "Get up, make yourself presentable, and be polite. I don't want a repeat of the Pierces."

"They were rude."

"You weren't better," Bruce said, though the hints of a smile tugged at the edges of his mouth.

Jason had an amazing comeback. He was sure of it. Dick could see the gears turning in his brain. Too bad their guests took that moment to ring the doorbell, the sound echoing throughout the hallways of Wayne Manor.

"Something tells me you were saved by the bell," Dick told Jason.

"He won the battle, not the war," Jason replied.

Muttered voices extended from down the hallway, and the two boys peeked into the foyer from the main dining room in the hopes to spy on a conversation they may not be privy to once dinner started. Unfortunately, it looked like another boy, even younger than Jason, was present and thus the adults were less likely to bring up and sordid conversations.

Not to mention they probably wouldn't have heard much anyway. Before anything outside of greeting could be said, Bruce's eyes landed on the pair of them and he gestured them over. "Boys, I want you to meet some old friends of mine. This is Jack and Janet Drake, and this is their son Timothy."

* * *

**August 28, 2017 01:38 - Infinity Island**

"Beginning descent into Infinity Island," Robin's voice sounded above the intercom. "We're scheduled to hit the water just off shore fifteen minutes."

"Aren't we supposed to be flying the plane?" Nightwing called from the cockpit.

"Just acting like an extra set of eyes. It's late. You never know when more help could be needed," Tim replied.

Tim, not Robin. As much as they all tried to stay in character at this point (because, really, weren't they all just playing a part?) Dick could hear more of his brother than the teenage hero in his voice. The lateness of the hour had nothing to do with it. They had just gotten past the worst day they had ever collectively experienced, but it was still pressing on them like a collapsing wall.

This time three years ago, the lights had left Jason's eyes. He was already cold to the touch. This time three years ago, their brother was gone.

* * *

There you have it! Told you they were quick introductions. Just some brief glimpses into what I view their first meetings as being like. Once again, thanks for any follows, likes, and reviews!

- Defective


	7. Chapter 7

Thanks so much to everyone for all the favorites, follows, and reviews! Things are speeding up a bit now, and will continue to do so in the next chapter or two. I suspect maybe two more chapters of extensive flashbacks, but we'll see.

Happy reading!

* * *

**August 28, 2017 01:45 - Infinity Island**

"When exactly are you going to tell me what's going on?"

Nightwing had secured the cockpit door and settled in for landing before simply staring at his mentor. Batman had to know the questions were coming, and frankly he had to be surprised his protégé had waited this long to come out with them. At least this one was mission-related.

"Our signals in the Batcave were interrupted momentarily. I'm sure you remember—"

"Yeah, I remember."

Again, the memories of that first night with Jason flooded into his mind. The interrupted signals and radio silence preceding their introduction to the boy. Technology they were certain the Light had obtained somehow. The very thought stiffened Nightwing's posture.

"Robin traced the signal, and ended up decoding the origins of the transmission. In addition to finding a location, he also found… a message."

Even with the mask, Nightwing was sure his raised eyebrows were fully visible. "A message?"

"It was short and took Tim several hours to decrypt, but it mentioned Cadmus and… drones."

"Oh… kay. So, we're potentially dealing with another cloning project on Infinity Island. You still haven't mentioned why we're all getting involved instead of leaving it a covert op." In other words, why in the hell are you involving yourself instead of just sending in the team? Of course, Nightwing knew better than to say this out loud unless he was feeling particularly suicidal.

"The message had an unusual sendoff," Batman admitted as the plane approached the water.

"Really?" Smirk. "And what was that?"

"Beloved."

* * *

**November 26, 2011 17:22 - Gotham**

Exactly like Jason and yet completely the opposite. It made no sense, but that was the only way Dick could think of to describe Tim upon first meeting him. He was quiet, polite, somewhat timid in his few exchanges, and calculating of his every move. His handshakes, bowed head greetings, and soft-spoken comments were perfectly planned. Dick could see the gears in the boy's head turning for everything, including something as simple as where to look or how to stand.

Jason was meticulous; Dick had seen him research something to death before he felt satisfied with his results. However, he could also be impulsive, figuring research could wait until after the immediate situation was taken care of. The elder of the two was still trying to reconcile these two sides of his little brother, but he could clearly see a more pronounced version of Jason's first side in their new guest.

Jack and Janet had retired with Bruce into the parlor, closed doors offering little information as to the reason for their visit. Bruce rarely had company unless there was some Wayne Foundation gala or any number of other parties where he played the part of a playboy philanthropist with an air head but a knack for business—not to mention a soft spot for poor, orphaned urchins.

"I can only hear something about someone named… Greg. Or Craig. I actually have no damn clue. Why the hell does Bruce think every damn room needs to be soundproof? No wonder people don't come over here that often. They probably think he's into some weird, kinky shit."

"Jason…" Dick sighed.

"It's true. Walls like Fort Knox, even for the parlor. And all those creepy, old decorations. Ten bucks says he has some gallows buried in a closet somewhere and a drawer full of blindfolds."

"Jason!"

"Relax, Dick," Jason said, shaking his head.

"…Makes you wonder what else they might use their neckties for," came a third voice.

The two "Wayne" boys turned to give a surprise glance toward the previously silent Tim. Upon getting their attention, and unsure if it was the wrong sort, the boy blushed deep crimson and carefully adjusted his posture.

"Sorry."

While Dick was readying a supportive reply, Jason interrupted his thoughts with a loud burst of laughter. "I never thought about that! That's true. Colorful nooses that could double as blindfolds. Shit, now I'm thinking about Bruce being into that BDSM stuff. I really didn't need that in my head."

"You did it to yourself, idiot," his brother replied, shaking his head before returning his attention to the boy in front of him. "Don't listen to Jason. He's bumped his head a few times too many. It's affecting that filter he's supposed to have between his brain and his mouth."

"I guess hits to the head is what happens when you do the kind of work you do," Tim shrugged.

Jason and Dick stopped cold at those words, sending Tim their best confused looks. Yet, something in Tim's eyes showed how little he believed their expressions. In fact, at the matching looks, the younger boy merely smiled.

"You mean, the work of putting up with Bruce's social gatherings without hanging ourselves? I've only hit my head into a wall a few times at those things," Jason managed.

"I guess that, too, but…" Tim started, lowering his voice. "I mean being Robin and Nightwing."

Dick and Jason glanced at each other, then at Tim, and back at each other before bursting out in laughter.

"You think we're what?" asked Dick.

Jason pinched his index fingers to his thumbs, creating a finger mask that he pressed to his face. "He thinks we're vigilantes in between school and being Wayne Enterprises charity cases."

A pink hue rose over Tim's cheeks, but if anything his stance became more firm. "No, I think you're vigilantes in between school and being Bruce Wayne's kids. You have the means and the abilities, not to mention Wayne Tech at your disposal. Dick, I've seen you at my gymnastics meets, a few levels above me. You're the only person I know who can do a quadruple flip. I saw Nightwing pull the same thing one night after the museum ball my parents took me to was attacked. And, Jason, I don't know any other twelve-year-olds that can knockout someone twice as big with one punch. I visited Gotham Academy to tour it for next year, and you had just laid out a senior. Robin did the same thing with one of the thugs at the ball. Make fun of me all you want, but I know what I saw. Not to mention Bruce Wayne takes in another kid, and six months later there's another Robin and now Nightwing patrolling Gotham. Training time, I'd guess."

After his speech, the boy crossed his arms and arched an eyebrow at the pair of them, finding a burst of confidence when their jaws slacked. They had been discovered; Dick knew it. He wondered if or when this would ever happen, and had always pictured it being some vile genius villain. Not, well, some ten-year-old kid.

Jason made a fist and looked ready to deck the kid in front of him, his face growing dark at the million threats swirling in his head. His feeling of safety, the elder brother realized, had been swept right out from under his feet.

"You can't tell anyone," Dick said suddenly before Jason had the chance to do anything more troublesome.

"Who would believe me, and why would I? You two are the coolest! I'd have to be really stupid to compromise the best things that have happened to Gotham in _ever_."

The praise stopped Jason in his tracks, and even slapped a somewhat humble look on his previously irritated face. "Well, Batman's cooler."

"But you two are trained by Batman. He's a grown-up, and both of you are kids who can keep up with him. That's so awesome!"

Dick and Jason exchanged another glance to one another and smirked. Tim Drake, they decided, could be fun to have around.

* * *

**December 24, 2012 15:54 – Happy Harbor**

There was no real way Dick could explain the first couple of years with Jason. _Not even two years_, he reminded himself. His little brother, now thirteen and a full-fledged team member, was somehow both better adjusted and worse for wear. Tim, Dick soon realized, wasn't the contradiction—Jason was.

One minute, he was the happiest kid on the planet: trying out for baseball at Gotham Academy, taking extra care in his history assignments when the subject interested him, leaning over Bruce's shoulder in the Batcave as they researched the latest happenings around the city. He lit up around Donna, confided in Artemis when he was feeling down, thought of new food concoctions with Wally, and spent his time at home with Dick, Barbara, or with the occasionally-visiting Tim.

Still, there was a darkness settling over the boy. A black cloud began to gather around him, and for seemingly no reason at all Jason could have an emotional crash. He became distant, irritable, and so much like that hermit crab they met on that cold February night. He spent hours in front of the cave's computer, quickly minimizing his searches and wiping the recent history whenever Dick got close. The elder boy almost cursed teaching Jason more tech secrets. His new abilities seemed to only cause trouble.

_Christmas should help_, Dick hoped silently as they zeta'd to Mount Justice. Jason had his hood pulled over him, as if shielding himself from a coldness only he could feel. His blue-green eyes scanned the entryway, only halfway paying attention to its occupants. At least the cool look was hidden from everyone else by his dark glasses... Small favors, Dick supposed.

"Wally, those were for everybody!" Artemis's voice carried from the kitchen, soon followed by a sharp slap.

"Ow! Babe, I couldn't help it! I was starving! Do you want me to starve?"

"As if you could," she snapped. Dick could practically hear the eye roll in her voice. There was no use in arguing when Wally set his sights on devouring something.

"I take it we missed M'gann's cookies," the elder bird offered once they hit the kitchen. "By a record of five seconds, judging by the looks of things."

"Yeah, sorry, dude," Wally shrugged, still rubbing his arm from the archer's assault.

The television blared over the sounds of mixing and blending. Conner attempted to heat-vision some creme brule concoction M'gann was creating over the melody of a newscast. Dick caught random words lifting above Conner's frustrated mutterings until he decided the oven was probably their best bet.

_"—And, now we bring you to our very own G. Gordon Godfrey in Gotham City, where yet another Arkham breakout occurred in the early hours of Tuesday morning."_

"I hate that guy," Donna muttered from the couch, crossing her arms and looking like she damn near wanted to leap through the television to throw a few good punches.

Artemis gestured to Jason's ever-darkening expression. "You're not the only one."

_With good reason_, Dick thought, though kept silent as he watched his brother's eyes glaze into a graying fog. Something told him this wasn't about the rabble rousing G. Gordon Godfrey was so good at. Though the newscaster had created some rather rough situations resulting in mobs and mayhem, not to mention some injuries as a consequence, Jason didn't seem to be focusing on the idiot spewing his latest findings. This was… different.

_"I'm standing here on the steps of the famed Arkham Asylum, a maximum security institution for the criminally insane where Harvey "Two-Face" Dent has been the latest of many recent breakouts. Dent, a former district attorney turned madman, was most recently convicted of the death of four prominent judges in one of the most highly publicized cases in Gotham's history. Of course, you all have been aware of this. The 'Batman' and his precious Justice League have been keeping the streets safe, making sure to round up the dangerous criminals that have seen fit to break out from these walls. Now, I have to ask you… if Arkham is such a safe place to keep our 'criminally insane' including the likes of Dent, a psychopath who has viscously butchered, not only his own people, but—"_

Godfrey was rather rudely cut off when the television found itself suddenly impaled by the previously whirring blender. Ice cream and glass sprayed across the living room area, splattering the couch and anyone within a ten food radius.

"Dude!" Wally yelled.

Then, silence. Everyone turned to look at Jason, his arms and shoulders still primed for a throw. Every muscle in his face tensed with a palpable rage. It radiated from him, rolling off his shoulders and rippled throughout the room.

"Robin?" M'gann tried, her voice lightly floating over the waves of anger.

"Is everything alright?" came Kaldur's calm, steady tone.

At Jason's lack of response, Dick moved closer to his little brother, gently resting a hand on his shoulder. Jason jumped at the sudden touch, preparing to throw a punch until he registered who was standing before him.

"Robin, you're okay," he said, ginger as if he were speaking to a feral cat. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," the younger bird quickly answered.

Dick's expression became more firm, his brow creasing beneath his glasses. "Robin, what's wrong?"

Jason practically snarled, and for a moment Dick thought the boy might reel back and hit him. Thankfully, in that moment Donna came to rest her hand on his other arm, as if siphoning the rage from his veins.

"Are you all right?" she asked.

"I'm fine," he mustered. Though remnants of his wrath were still apparent, the sharpness had dulled. Only, without his anger, Jason was all too aware how vulnerable he was quickly becoming. All eyes were on him, each pair begging for an answer as to why the television had to suffer such an indignity.

"I'm going to take a walk."

"But, Rob—" Dick started.

Jason waved him off and rushed away toward the back of the mountain, into the depths of winding hallways and empty rooms. The rest stayed in a stunned silence, unsure whether they had really just witnessed what had just happen, and really wondering where in the world the outburst had come from.

"Dude, what's up with him?" Wally finally broke, earning another hit from Artemis. "Ow! We were all thinking it!"

"He _has_ seemed distant the last few weeks," Kaldur admitted.

Suddenly, Nightwing felt their gazes shift from where the Boy Wonder had previously been standing straight to him. Why did he have to have all the answers? Didn't they know that he understood Jason about as well as the rest of them sometimes? He doubted anyone, even Jason, really knew what was going on inside of his head half the time.

"I'll go talk to him." _If only to get you all to stop looking at me like that_.

It took almost half an hour for Dick to find his little brother. When he did, he felt stupid for somehow not checking his hiding place beforehand. The library in Mount Justice was an extensive maze of books, computers, and various reference materials. There were plenty of corners and reading nooks to bury oneself into. Of course Jason would curl up into one of them, his eyes looking over the pages of a book without actually reading it.

"Which one's that?" _Safe subjects first. Always safe subjects first_.

Jason shrugged, adjusting his sunglasses. "Some anthology. Hadn't seen it before, so I figured I'd give it a shot."

Dick nodded, taking a seat at the desk next to Jason and just… sitting for a while. He allowed a soft silence to overtake the pair of them, easing the tension in Jason's shoulders. Even at thirteen, in spite of Alfred's nutritious meals and a couple of growth spurts, the boy was still on the smaller end of the scale. Lean muscle over worn bones, but at least he was inching into the second quartile for his age. Maybe with Christmas dinner and their annual New Year's feast, he would finally push toward the middle.

"Quit that," Jason suddenly muttered.

"Quit what?"

"You're looking at me like Br-Batman and Agent A do sometimes. Like I'm one of those anatomy dolls with its pieces all wrong and they're trying to get me to fit together the way I should. It's not going to happen."

"What's that mean?"

"It means," he started, slamming the book shut and turning to glare at his brother, "that whatever you're thinking, however you think I'm going to get fixed and everything's going to be okay, it's crap. Okay?"

Dick furrowed his eyebrows, staring softly at the smaller boy in silence. If he asked the wrong question or even said anything in the wrong tone, he knew Jason would clam up again. For hours, probably. Maybe days. Silence, though, allowed Jason to dictate the conversation. To be in charge. To have some sense of control.

Control, in this moment, he needed.

At long last, Jason sighed, his eyes turning back toward the desk. "Batman has been keeping things from me. I found out… Nightwing, I found out my dad died. Well, my _father_. He wasn't ever any sort of dad. Still, he's dead. Killed by Two-Face. I mean, I always figured that happened, but part of me just believed he went to jail, rotted for a while, then ran off with some hussy to Mexico or some crap. I found a file on the cave computer… W. T. was fished out of the Long Island Sound just a few weeks after I came to live with you. They had to identify him by his teeth, but they still got him."

"So, that Two-Face broadcast—"

"To hell with Two-Face! Okay, yes, I want to strangle the bastard for killing my father. As horrible as a man as he was, as much as I hate him, and I really **hate** him, he was still… something! I don't know what! Now he's nothing! But, but Batman kept it from me. He knew! He's known for almost two years! And I know he knows more than that. He has whole encrypted files on the both of us, and he doesn't say a word!"

"Jay," Dick began mildly, barely above a whisper. Still, the idea of using his name in the cave stirred Jason just enough to snaps his mouth shut. "Batman has his reasons. Maybe he didn't tell you because there's dangerous information, or he doesn't have all the evidence, or something like that. He kept Zucco's information from me for a few months after I came to live with him, but he wanted to be sure he had everything in place before involving me because he _knew_ I'd be too emotionally invested to think clearly without everything in place."

"This wasn't a few months, Dick. This was over a year. And, he knows more. I know he does! Dick, he's hiding things from us that have to do with our lives! He doesn't tell us half of what he should, and you know it!"

Dick sighed, leaning against the hard chair. "He always does what's best for us."

"I'm not so sure about that," Jason sighed. "I think, sometimes, he does what's best for whatever mission he has in his head, and we come second."

"That's not true, Jason," Dick almost hissed, though he forced his voice to steady and his temper to calm. "Just talk to him. He's emotionally stunted and sometimes an idiot for as smart as he is, but he does have our best intentions at heart. Just… just try to talk to him. You'll see."

"Sure, that conversation will be one heck of a "Merry Christmas.'"

"After Christmas. Maybe before New Year's. You two can start 2013 on a good note. Get things out in the open. At least try it, Little Wing. Can you do that?"

Jason made a face at the nickname. However, Dick couldn't help but smile when he saw the boy's expression ease, his posture relaxing. "Fine. I'll try."

* * *

**August 28, 2017 02:07 - Infinity Island**

Once the Batplane was down, the Bioship soon followed. Without a word exchanged, a psychic link was established, mission parameters were confirmed thanks to some well-placed nods, and teams split up. Miss Martian and Superboy check the perimeter and disengage any threats. Kaldur and Tigress infiltrate the first level and disrupt security alarms, and the Bats infiltrate the second floor.

"You sure it's on the second floor? Whatever _it_ is?" Spoiler asked.

"That's what the message said," Robin replied.

"And… if someone happened to send the message to set a trap? You do know we're walking right into it, right?"

Batman stepped forward, and any respond Robin had stuck in his throat. "It's the best intel we have."

No one argued. When it came to Batman, there was a death wish or a serious compromise. When it came to Batman and Talia… it was just best to go with it or there'd be hell to pay. Dick knew better than anyone the lengths Batman would go to in order to ensure mission safety, and he also know the lengths Talia _wouldn't_ go to when Bruce or any of his children were involved.

At least, so he thought.

* * *

A bit longer this time, and we're quickly approaching some rather interesting events. Potentially some disturbing images in the next chapter, but for now... hope you enjoyed!

- Defective


	8. Chapter 8

**So, I ended up having to split what was supposed to be one chapter into two chapters. There was just too much to cover and this was getting to be a bit on the longer side before we even got to the other scene I wanted to do. Just a bit more before we're all caught up to 2017. **

**Also - there are mentions of rape (not graphic), suicide, and violence in this chapter. Please look away if this is a problem for you. **

* * *

**August 28, 2017 02:29 – Infinity Island**

If Dick had to choose a moment, an exact instant, where everything changed, he would only need to think of a name. Two simple words that had set the rest of Jason's life on a path no one saw coming. Maybe if they had looked harder, if they had done more…

_We did everything we could_, he had to remind himself.

Still, that name clouded his mind even now, even as they approached the second story of the al Ghul fortress.

Felipe Garzonas.

Nightwing could feel his chest flutter, and Batman turned at the slightest hint of his eldest child's discomfort. The young man merely nodded in return, assuring his mentor that everything was alright. The moment had passed. Sure, it would be replaced by a new one at an unsuspecting time with yet another horrible vision, but for now it was gone. The mission was all that could matter now.

Getting to the second story and following the coordinates in the decrypted message was unusually easy. Even for the Bats, there should have been more resistance. Sure, there were some skulls cracked and a few bruises earned along the way, but Nightwing began to wonder if Spoiler had the right idea. Was this a trap?

_"This is it,_"Robin voiced telepathically. _"We've approached the main door. Bypassing security now."_

_"Security cameras in your area running on loop. You shouldn't run into too many problems,"_ Tigress added.

Batgirl adjusted so she was behind Tim, subconsciously taking over the big-sister stance she had become so accustomed to. Dick remembered when she began to look like that, back when she first joined them as her own caped-crusader identity. Back when she did it for Jason. Some things never changed.

Almost immediately, Nightwing adjusted into a defensive position near the pair of them and the rest followed suit. Batman took one sweeping glance over his flock, readying himself to leap into action the second any danger came. He trusted his protégés to do what needed to be done, but even now—perhaps more so than in the beginning—he needed to be the first wall the bad guys came across.

_I don't care how much you think the 'Batman' takes over, you're still Bruce sometimes_," Dick thought, managing to hide his smirk.

With the group in place, Tim gave one final nod and pushed the door open. An oppressively large, dark room greeted them. A shudder ran up Robin's spin when he was reminded of the room he and other members of the team had been kept in stasis thanks to the Reach.

_"I feel like I'm in an episode of Scooby Doo," _muttered Stephanie psychically.

_"I feel like I'm in Killer Clowns from Outer Space,"_ Tim returned.

_"Focus,"_ said Batman.

Rows and rows of glass and metal pods lined the warehouse-like room. Tubes connected sections of them to glass containers where a bubbling green substance illuminated the otherwise darkened area. There had to be hundreds, maybe thousands of pods decorating the chamber, silent and still except for the sound of lapping liquid.

Uneasily, the group moved as one toward a section of pods. Most of them were empty. _Waiting_, Nightwing thought. He grimaced at the disturbing idea and forced himself to move on.

Down, down, down the line they went. The low, lava lamp-like sound created a soothing soundtrack to their venture deeper and deeper into the room. At least, it would be soothing if the calming noise didn't sound so much like the gentle hum in a horror movie before something jumped out.

_"What the hell?!"_

It had to be that moment, didn't it? Nightwing jumped as Batgirl exclaimed loudly in his mind. All three of the others turned to face her, though their eyes almost immediately bypassed the redhead and went straight for what she was peering into.

Apparently not all of the pods were empty. Twisted muscles wrapped around bleached bone in a human form lying dormant within the case. Dick got closer, unconsciously his hand brushing against one of his escrima sticks. A monitor beside the pod quietly read various vitals, though Dick was a bit rusty on his Arabic to read them all. He was, however, able to make out, "heartbeat".

Looking back into the pod, his eyes landed on a portion of the figure's arm. Slowly, but very plainly, the flesh was redeveloping. The elbow snapped into place with a quiet but sickening click, and muscle fibers wrapped around it in a painstakingly slow dance.

_"It's regenerating. Whatever, whoever, is in there… it's regenerating,"_ Nightwing voiced. _"Batman, are these the _drones_ the message mentioned?"_

Even in his head, the young man could hear the man batglaring. _"Not sure, but it does seem to have a connection to the previous Cadmus projects and the al Ghuls' own… experiments."_

_"You mean their own unnatural pit of hell?"_ asked Spoiler.

_"Something like that,"_ said Batgirl.

_"Uh, that's not the worst thing," _Robin muttered suddenly.

The Boy Wonder had wandered a few more feet and was staring into another pod. As they approached, they found this one appeared, for lack of a better word, demolished. Splitting glass created a spider web across the front of it and blood was smeared in streaks across the front and sides. There were small blood splatters, as if someone's fingers had sharply thudded against the glass. Spotting something on the case floor, Dick crouched down to find—

_"Fingernails? Well, that's gross..."_

Robin looked over at the shattered remnants of a monitor, trying to make out the broken Arabic written along the sides. _"Whatever they're doing with these things, they've done it before. Or, at least tried to."_

* * *

**May 28, 2013 16:04 – Gotham**

"He's done it before!" Robin shouted, pacing the roof. "He's done it before, and he'll do it again. He'll keep trying! You know he will, Batman! He said so himself!"

"Robin!" was all Batman needed to say to stop the boy in his tracks. Still, the younger vigilante's expression did not waver. His hardened eyes bore into Batman, hands balled into fists.

"He's going to hurt her again." Robin's voice was softer this time, but his eyes never left his mentor's.

"We won't let that happen, but you need to keep it together. Do you understand me?"

Nightwing sat on the nearby ledge, careful to keep out of the way as he watched the tennis match play out. Robin, he knew, was too wrapped up in this case. Gloria Stanson, brutally raped and abused by filth-of-the-earth Felipe Garzonas, had struck a chord with Jason. Whether she reminded the younger boy of someone or the brutality of the crimes were just too much for the boy to handle calmly, Dick wasn't sure. Either way, upon hearing the man had diplomatic immunity thanks to his ambassador father, Robin had blown a gasket.

"We can get him on the drugs he had in his apartment, and that's going to have to hold until we can bring a stronger case against him," said Batman.

"And then what? He gets deported, at worst? Like that will teach him a lesson! If he doesn't get back to Gloria, he'll get to some other woman," Robin snapped.

"We have to handle this one step at a time!"

"We have to handle it before someone else gets hurt! Before Gloria gets hurt again! You didn't see her like I saw her, Batman. When I went into that bedroom he kept her in, when I saw her—"

The boy stopped suddenly, looking away. His stance sagged, Batman's slightly relaxing in turn. The Dark Knight approached his ward, laying a gentle hand on his shoulder in a rare moment of affection while in the cowl.

"I know, chum, but you have to keep a level head. You can't let this get to you," he said.

"How can you not?" Robin returned.

Nightwing doubted anyone had an answer for that.

For a while, the unfortunate series of events seemed to be heading in the right direction. They were able to pin a drug charge on Garzonas and Batman had collected numerous pieces of evidence pointing to Felipe's multitude of crimes.

Then the phone call happened, and it all crashed the hell.

A phone call from jail is as much a staple of the American justice process as a search warrant and a warning about dropping soap. Predictably, Garzonas took up the offer of a phone call. Unpredictably? He used it to call Gloria.

A swell of rage erupted within Robin as the man taunted his victim. He would see her again, he told her. Tonight. The man's words were simple, but the smile on his face, the tone of his voice, wrapped an icy grip around Jason's heart and lungs.

_"I'll see you later tonight,"_ the words repeated over and over in Jason's mind. _"Later tonight…"_

The boy could only imagine the horror ripping through that poor woman at that very moment. The sense of helplessness, of fear, of utter loneliness. This man, with just a few words, had torn away any sense of safety she had felt in recent memory.

"You animal!" Robin screamed, attempting to launch at Felipe. Batman caught his rogue ward before too much damage could be done.

Dick found himself wishing his little brother had managed to land a punch or two to the rotten bastard in front of them. Perhaps his brother had been right. How could a person possibly keep a level head over something like this?

The moment Batman had Robin reasonably restrained, the boy looked to the prison phone. "We have to check on her. We have to make sure she's alright."

"Robin," Nightwing started, though his thought was immediately cut off when Jason wrestled out of their mentor's grip and attempted to redial Gloria's number. The endless ringing and nervous twitching from the younger bird sent an anxious chill up Nightwing's spine.

"She's not picking up," Robin managed.

It couldn't have been more than twenty minutes, but the time stretched on to forever as the three heroes rushed to find out why. Robin took the lead, swinging haphazardly in his attempt to get to Gloria as quickly as possible, to make sure the victim he had been trying so hard to protect was still safe. Still okay. That nothing had happened to her, _would_ happen to her, like Batman promised.

Twenty minutes is not quick enough when a person's frayed grip on sanity snaps. She was going cold by the time they found her, her face serene as her neck tilted awkwardly at the end of a rope. It was the first suicide Dick had ever seen. Bodies, sure, he had seen plenty of those. Someone taking their own life? It felt like a sucker punch to the jaw.

It had to feel a thousand times worse for Robin. Jason immediately turned away from the scene, his gaze downcast. Though invisible behind the domino mask, Nightwing would bet the boy was on the verge of tears. They had lost. In spite of all their efforts, Felipe had bested them and Gloria was now a past-tense statistic.

"She was supposed to be okay," Robin whispered.

"Robin, I'm so…" He couldn't say sorry. Sorry was too cheap of a word.

Batman reached out his hand to the boy, but the bird pulled away before his gloved fingers could even graze his shoulders. The boy called the police to confirm Garzonas's location at the precinct. Sure enough, he had posted bail not two minutes after the vigilantes had left.

"We need to collect the evidence, Robin, and then we can handle Garzonas," Batman said in a gravelly whisper.

"We need to handle this now," Robin returned.

He did manage to turn into the living room and hunt for clues here and there. Nightwing watched as he searched through a pile of notes and makeup. The boy paused a time or two, noting the sheer amount of heavy foundations and powders scattered over her vanity. Dick could almost hear the boy wondering if she used them as a sort of shell to put on a pretty face, or if their primary purpose had been to hide the bruises and shame Felipe had dealt out to her.

The elder bird was sure he had only turned away for a moment. No more than a few quick seconds to check a couple of drawers. When he looked up, Robin was gone.

"Batman? Where's Robin?" he called immediately.

In the room, simultaneously calling the police and checking evidence near the body, Batman stopped cold at his son's question. He hesitated briefly, scanning the modest apartment, until the dark realization hit him.

"He's gone. We need to get to Felipe Garzonas's apartment. Now," he growled.

Dick didn't need to be told twice. The evidence could wait, and the detective work could be left to the police. Right now, Jason needed their help more than anyone. There was nothing more they could do for Gloria, but if they hurried they could keep Jason from making a mistake.

"AHHHHHH!"

A deep scream met their ears as they grappled to Felipe's apartment. Robin stood on the balcony, looking over the edge as the rapist bastard gave his last breaths to fear before he slammed into the concrete below. The loud crash and ensuing silence shook Nightwing to his core, but nothing ripped through him like the dazed look on Robin's face.

Batman was the first to act, pulling the boy to him and glaring into his eyelets. "Robin, did Felipe fall, or was he pushed?"

Terrible silence. Then, in a quiet breath, Robin muttered, "I must have spooked him. He fell."

* * *

**June 6, 2013 12:35 – Gotham**

An uneasy air filled Wayne Manor in the week following the Felipe Garzonas incident. An accident, the police reported. The rapist's fall had been a simple accident and nothing more.

Except, to Bruce.

Jason had closed himself off in his room, back to muttering to himself like he had in the early days of his stay at the manor. In the rare moments he did leave his bedroom, he was like a ghost. The only evidence was turned chairs, shifted books, or crumbs on the kitchen counter.

Initially, Bruce thought it best to give the boy his space before the inevitable talk came. If he were honest with himself, he needed time to think, as well. The idea that Jason could have pushed Garzonas filled Bruce with emotions he couldn't quite identify. As someone who had such a keen awareness of himself at all times, the array of feelings was unnerving. If he couldn't keep a handle on himself, how was he supposed to keep a handle on Jason?

Even Dick felt out of sorts, relying on Alfred to keep some semblance of normalcy as the house around him fell apart.

"Just give it some time, Master Richard. They both need it," he assured the boy steadily. "Continue to go through your routine and everything will fall into place."

He sure hoped their trusty butler was right. Dick continued to visit Mount Justice, informing the team each day that Jason wasn't feeling well but he would hopefully return soon. It wasn't exactly a lie. He suspected at least some of them knew the truth, though. The incident had been highly publicized, and G. Gordon Godfrey of course had his own two cents' worth to put in.

One Saturday, Bruce approached Dick's bedroom looking closer to his usual self. A smile, though somewhat strained, had even found its way on the man's face. His appearance eased a tension Dick had become used in recent days.

"Do you mind coming to the garage with me? I have a surprise for you."

"For what? My birthday's not for another few months," Dick said.

"Oh, right. So, should I return it?"

"No, no, I'll take it, whatever it is. Hell, if it's another motorcycle, I'm not going to object to you giving me a birthday present early," he laughed.

"This is more of a 'good luck on your approaching senior year' sort of present," Bruce replied, escorting Dick down the hall.

His footsteps halted just outside Jason's door. Incoherent mutterings and an occasional sniffle made their way through the thick door. Bruce looked prepared to move on, but hesitated, sending a gentle knock into the sturdy oak.

"Jay? Dick and I are going to be in the garage. If you'd like to join us, there is something I would like for you to see," he said.

The mutterings stopped, leaving the hallway in an uneasy silence.

Bruce sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Whenever you want to come out, we'd be happy to have your company."

He didn't wait for an answer he was sure he wouldn't get, moving on as if nothing had happened. Dick held back for a second or two, wondering if he should just bust down the door, hug his brother, and ask him what the hell was going on inside of his head. He wanted to let him know he wasn't broken, or hated, or whatever he kept telling himself when he locked himself away.

Instead, he put one foot in front of the other, and continued on with Bruce with little more than a sigh.

The trek to the garage felt like the trek through Middle Earth. Finally, with a flip of a switch, Bruce lit up the impressive room and escorted Dick inside. A vast array of cars greeted them like polished trophies lining a shelf. Dick supposed Bruce had every make and model of sports car worth more than the average American's mortgage.

"Does this mean I get the Bentley?" Dick joked, his eyes landing first on the black beauty several feet away.

"If Alfred had the choice, he still wouldn't let _me_ drive the Bentley, so nice try," Bruce chuckled. "No, I want you to check over there. Behind the Audi."

Curious, Dick circled his way around the maze until his eyes landed on it. Bright cobalt-blue, a more modest but no less impressive car sat there, a bright beacon among shiny black, red, and white cars.

"Are… are you serious?"

"You boys ask me that a lot, and I could not begin to guess why," Bruce said, a hint of a smile on his lips.

"Well, you did just give me a car. Okay, sure, you've given me motorcycles and free reign over your cars, but… Damn, Bruce!" he exclaimed, excitedly approaching it. "It's even, you know…"

"Nightwing blue?"

Bruce and Dick turned around at once to see Jason peeking from around the corner. He watched the two of them like a cat watching a pair of Dobermans, eyes darting between them.

"Yeah. That. You… you want to come over here and take a look?" Dick asked.

Jason shrugged, even stepping back when Bruce made a move toward him. "You can look it over. It's your present. You earned it."

_And I didn't_.

Dick heaved a heavy breath and the unspoken sentiment, but Bruce gestured toward a tarp covering a heap in the far corner. "There's something I was hoping you could see while you were down here, Jason. You mind coming over and taking a look?"

Anxious but not one to admit it, Jason peeled himself away from the wall and moved toward Bruce's gaze. Their father-figure followed behind, careful not to get too close. This was the most interaction they had had since Gloria's death and Felipe's fall. Dick knew they all had to play it carefully if things were going to get better.

* * *

**August 28, 2017 02:41 – Infinity Island**

They could spend hours in the warehouse-sized room, filled to the brim with glass pods and beeping vitals. Dick could see each of his companions exploring different pieces of the room, though a quiet understanding seemed to hit them all at once. He blamed Batman's body language and narrowed eyelets for that. Even after all these years, he still found it strange how the man could get everyone's attention without uttering a single word.

_"We need to find—"_

Okay, the projectile hitting Batman in the head, effectively cutting off his thought was unexpected. Even more so? The small frame of the person who did it. Though the assailant was quite a distance away, standing on the second story balcony that surrounded the room, it was still plain to see their attacker couldn't be any taller than four feet.

Perhaps the same notion hit Batman, as that was the only reason Nightwing could see for the vigilante to show restraint when returning fire with fire. Rather, projectile with projectile. A batarang flew through the air, aimed at the figure's leg rather than anything vital.

Before it had the chance to land its mark, another projectile connected to the batarang, sending the metal object skidding across the room. All five bats and birds turned to the new figure. This one, considerably taller and more… shapely, was much easier to identify.

"Talia," Batman muttered.

"Hello, Beloved," she returned.

* * *

**There you have it! In spite of the darkness, I hope you all still enjoyed it. Again, just a bit more to go before the "Nightwing's memories" side of things is caught up. Hope this does Jason's history some justice (no pun intended). **

**-Defective**


	9. Chapter 9

**Thanks everyone for all of the reviews and support you have given me so far! I hope this chapter lives up to expectations! Either way, you all are awesome!**

* * *

**August 28, 2017 02:53 - Infinity Island**

"What is this place?" No gentle words or mind games. Batman did not care to create mazes with intricate and calculated phrases. He wanted answers. To hell with difficulty.

"I'm disappointed. You should already know, _detective_. You have had adequate time to approach at least some conclusion," Talia returns.

Her stance eased, though without a raised arm she managed to still look primed for an offensive attack. Even so, Dick could see a softness in her brilliant green eyes as she walked closer to her former flame. Her movements were slow, almost silent. In spite of the spiked heels of her boots, her feet made no more noise than a whisper. God help the man who got on the wrong side of her—he might find those spikes embedded in his head.

Then, he realized Bruce had already gotten on the wrong side of her. A number of times. This boded well…

"Cadmus, Talia?" Batman asked.

"Not quite, but close," she said. "You won't find a single clone in this chamber. I would say you would not find one on the island, but Superboy is here, isn't he? I would hate to be a liar."

She smiled and Nightwing briefly wondered if she held some inspiration behind Miss Scarlet in Clue. Curved, cunning, and deadly if the cards were stacked a certain way. His awkward mind had to choose that moment to remember his adoptive father had seen her "body" a number of times. The thought almost turned Dick into Mr. Green.

"All of these people are the originals. You're using the cell duplication process Cadmus created and combining it with the effects of the Lazarus Pit," interrupted Robin.

"Smart boy," Talia, mouth turning up slightly in a grin.

"Your results?" Robin ask.

Talia watched him before her eyes turned deliberately to Batman's. "As of yet, inconclusive. We have run into some mild difficulties, but we are perfecting the variables."

"Yeah, we saw one of your results back there," Spoiler replied, gesturing to the busted and bloody case.

The assassin gave a passing glance to the purple (eggplant!) hero before turning her sights back toward Batman. "What you all saw was no more the result of an experiment than the skin of a seed is the result of a blossoming plant."

"That didn't look like botany," said Nightwing.

"Astute," Talia returned.

She arched an eyebrow at the eldest bird, though any further exchange was cut off as Batman pushed his way back into her field of vision. "You called us here, Talia."

"I called _you_ here, Beloved," she said.

"If you want my help, you want _our_ help. What are you up to?" he growled.

It was damn near impossible for Talia al Ghul to look uncomfortable. However, a wave of unease flooded her for an instant. Then, as quickly as it came, she pushed it away, her posture rising higher in response. It amazed Nightwing how much she could be so like a complicated piece of technology—a million calculations per second, and the slightest bit of turbulence led her to adjust her settings and approach a different route. Perhaps Talia came from a pod, too.

"The project," she started, shaking him from his daydream. "It has had some… unforeseen complications. Certain variables I did not anticipate, and results for which I was unprepared."

"You want me to help you fix your science experiment?" Batman snarled.

"I want you to help the people involved."

"You want me to help you and your father?"

She hesitated, then turned to the figure standing on the balcony. With just a quick turn of her head, the four-foot ninja flipped from its position, landing perfectly onto the floor below. Then, quick as a cat, it approached the group, limbs tensed and ready for battle.

"I want you to help me, yourself, and your children, Beloved," Talia said, pulling back the black hood that had shrouded the ninja's face.

The reveal would have been a letdown if it weren't for some glaringly obvious features. Seeing a small boy fighting with military-grade weapons was hardly a shock to anyone standing there anymore. Sure, he looked a little younger than even Dick had when he first became Robin, but it wasn't the surprise of the century to see another kid being primed for war.

No, it was the eyes. The cheekbones. The overall appearance of the boy before them that sent shockwaves through the group, nearly knocking them off their feet. It very well might have if they weren't all trained by Batman. Still, even Batman looked less than stoic at the sight.

"This is Damian," Talia started. "Your son."

* * *

**June 6, 2013 12:48 - Gotham**

Jason approached the tarp Bruce had gestured to, glancing back at him and Dick every few seconds. Tentatively, he wrapped the cloth around his fingers and pulled. Everyone just stopped moving, blinking, breathing. The tarp gave away to a pile of metal, gears, chains, and a pair of rusted wheels.

"What… what's this?"

"Well," Bruce started, approaching Jason and placing his hand on the boy's shoulder. "This is a mess. But, it _was_ a 1917 17T Harley Davidson. What's left of it, anyway. The man who sold me Dick's car was a collector of old motorcycles, and he sold me these parts. I thought you might like to help me see what we could make of them."

Jason blinked up at him, his blue-green eyes wide. "You want my help?"

With the first smile Jason had earned from him since the Garzonas incident, Bruce nodded. "Of course I want your help."

The first couple of days were quiet except for figuring out which parts were salvageable and what needed to be replaced. Dick came to join them in the garage and put in his own opinions, but mostly it was to look over his new car and to monitor the still-tense air between his foster father and younger brother. Though there were a few uncomfortable moments, for the most part it seemed to be doing some good.

Jason began drawing up sketches of modernized parts that could replace the nearly century old machine, pulling inspiration from some steampunk comics Dick shared with him. The wheels were replaced and the engine upgraded considerably, but the boy was adamant about keeping the outer shell as true to the original as possible.

On the third day, Jason adjusted one of the chains when Bruce took a deep breath. "Jay, I wanted to ask you something."

Jason's movements halted, gaze immediately moving to his hands. "Yeah. I know."

"That I wanted to ask you something or you know what I want to ask?"

"Both, I guess?" he said. Seconds ticked by before Jason looked up at the man and added, "I didn't push him. I swear. I know you think I did—"

"Jay, I don't think—"

"Don't lie. You at least partly think I did. If not, you think I could have. That I'd want to, and you're right about that. I wanted to. Maybe I could have if he tested me or said the wrong things, but he didn't. I didn't."

He took a deep breath and returned his focus on the bike, more keeping his hands busy than anything else. "I grappled to him and landed on the railing. He was standing there, muttering some poetic crap to himself, and I caught him off guard. He stepped backward toward the other side of the balcony. I moved toward him and reached for my utility belt. I couldn't tell you what I was reaching for. Just… something. Anything to use on him. He saw me go for it and backed up so hard into the other end of the railing that he flipped over it."

A still air hung between them as Bruce gathered his thoughts, trying to piece together his memories of that evening and the events that had transpired after. "Jay," he finally managed, "I'm just concerned with how we found you. How you looked afterward."

"You still think I did it," Jason practically growled.

"I think you witnessed something horrible and I wasn't there with you to see what it was. If you can, I want you to tell me what happened from your eyes, so I know how to handle it. That's how this works, Jason. You shouldn't keep all of this to yourself."

"Why not?" he asked, looking back up at him. "You do."

"I'm your guardian. There are certain burdens I need to shoulder alone. You, however, are my ward, and any problems you have until the day you turn eighteen are also mine to bear. Do you understand?"

Jason was quiet for a long while, his tinkering the only sound in the cave. Dick, a mere few feet away, had to struggle to hear what he said next.

"I could have saved him."

Bruce's eyebrows knitted together, and Dick held his breath for Jason to continue. "I could have saved him, and I didn't. I saw him flip over backward, and I ran to the other side of the balcony. I knew the second I started rushing over, though, that I wasn't going fast enough. I knew I wasn't reaching for anything in my belt to catch him. I didn't peek over the ledge until I knew he was too far down for me to do anything about it. I could have saved him and I let him fall."

It wasn't until he heard Jason sniffle that Dick knew the boy was crying. He saw Bruce reach up to place a hand on Jason's back, but the boy pulled away. Not too sharply, not too far, but enough to send a pain through Dick's heart.

"I know your rules about things like that, and I let it happen anyway. And now you're going to toss me out. Okay, maybe not me, maybe I'll still be here, but I know you're going to fire me. Dick's going to get his 'senior year' car and I'm working on my 'sorry, you're not a hero' motorcycle. And, I can't even be sorry about it or apologize, even to try and stop you from doing it. I don't think I'm sorry at all. Part of me really hopes he felt something before he died. I hope he felt what she felt, what any of his other victims felt. Even now, I hope there's a hell, because I want him to be in it."

The boy reached his hand up to wipe away the tears now streaming down his cheeks, the bike all but forgotten. To his credit, Bruce just sat there, stock-still like Batman on patrol. Dick realized he was doing the same, and had almost forgotten to breathe once Jason had gotten going.

A few more moments of nothing but sniffling passed before Jason wiped his cheeks one more time, cleared his throat, and picked up the wrench. "I know you don't want me to be Robin anymore. I'm a screw up, and you can't work with that."

"Did I ever tell you that?" Bruce asked.

The young bird looked up at the man. "You didn't have to. I know what I am. I'm a failure. I didn't mean to be. I tried hard. That didn't stop me from being a bad Robin. From… from being a bad person."

"Jason." It wasn't a request for attention or the beginning of a reassurance. It came out in almost a Batman growl. Dick hoped to whatever god there may be that it didn't send Jason running, but somehow it managed to keep him rooted on the spot.

Satisfied he got his foster son's attention, Bruce's expression softened once more. "I do not think you're a bad person. You've proven otherwise time and again. You're not a bad Robin, either…"

But. They could all sense the word hanging in his voice as Bruce gathered his thoughts.

"At the moment, though, I think Robin has a lot on his mind. More than that, I think _Jason_ has a lot on his mind. You are living two lives right now, and when so much is going on inside both of your heads, it can only mean trouble. I'm not taking Robin away, but… Jason, I think it's best for now to focus most of your time on working out your own mind without being in someone else's. Robin will continue training, and on serious missions with crimes I believe both of you can handle mentally and physically, he will be allowed to join. With the team, I trust you both to participate in pre-approved covert missions. I think the team strengthens both of you. These harsher crimes… I should have known better than to take you, either of you, on one like this. I'm really sorry for that, Jason."

"So, I'm on probation?" Jason asked, face unreadable.

"You're staying a little close to the nest," Bruce amended. "I do have a stipulation for Robin flying at all, though."

Dick watched as Jason tensed, readying himself for bad news he was sure would drop. Over two years with them, and he was on constant alert of the bottom falling out.

"Are you going to keep a tracker on me or something?"

"I'm going to ask you to meet with Black Canary. Regularly. I know there are some things you may not feel comfortable talking to me about or even discussing with Dick or Alfred. With Dinah, everything is confidential. The most she can do is tell me if you need something, but she can't tell me anything you say."

"You want me to see a shrink."

"I want you to see someone who can help."

Jason toyed with the wrench in his hands, chewing his lip raw. "I guess. I could try it, at least. If I do it, though, you really won't fire me?"

"I really won't fire you," Bruce nodded.

A smile stretched across Jason's face. "Okay. I can live with that."

* * *

**October 18, 2013 08:06 - Gotham**

Life, for the most part, seemed to go back to normal. While Jason complained from time to time about retreating into the "waterfall room" to talk about his "feelings," it all appeared to be doing some good. Dick knew the boy hated not being on patrol as often or included on some of the rougher crimes, but their arrangement really seemed to be for the better.

He started to have more good mood days than bad, even in the hallways of Gotham Academy. As a high school freshman, he was now closer to the same hallways Barbara and Dick wandered, though now Artemis had gone off to college with Wally leaving him one friend short.

At least Tim was now in seventh grade.

Dick thought Jason might avoid the boy in school as some freshmen do to their younger friends, as if a demilitarized zone stands between high school and middle school. However, as his little brother approached the front doors of the main building, that didn't seem to be the case.

"Hey, there's Drake. He never told me if he got Mr. Haskins. I swear, that guy hated me! He'd probably love the brainiac, though," Jason said, grinning. "Hey! Tim!"

Tim sat on one of the chairs just outside of the principal's office. He looked fidgety and tired, as if he hadn't slept in days and his synapses weren't sure what to fire anymore. Jason began to rush toward him, likely with a joke about coffee and bad TV on his mind, until the sight of police officers stopped him. Together, Tim, the officers, the principal, and a woman Dick didn't recognize walked into the office and closed the door tightly behind them.

"Social worker. They all look like that. The ones I've seen, anyway," Jason muttered, forehead creased.

Dick prepared to argue, but the sights told him otherwise. Everything from her outfit to the folder in her arms screamed social worker. "But, what the hell would they want with Tim?"

The bat boys shared one look and decided a detention for tardiness could wait. Approaching the office, they leaned in near the door, careful to keep out of sight.

"—had everything drawn up six months ago. There's still the matter of explaining to the guardian indicated in Mr. Drake's will. We, of course, called and requested his presence immediately, and he assured me he would be arriving momentarily. Luckily he was already in the area."

The boys weren't sure what else may have been said. After, "Mr. Drake's will," the rest of it all became a bit hazy, like Conner had turned up the volume on the television static.

"Tim's parents?" Jason whispered.

Dick hesitated, hoping to hear something to debunk the idea, but nothing came. "Dead. His parents are dead."

Neither of them were sure how long they continued to sit there, staring at each other and letting the procedures inside drift through their ears. Both of them just stayed there, sharing the hope that something was wrong, and desperately wishing they could take Tim away from the horrible conversation inside. Procedures and protocol were the last thing a grieving child needed in the immediate aftermath of his parents' death. The pair of them knew.

So did Tim's newly appointed guardian, who cast a shadow on the pair of boys in the fluorescent lighting. "Boys…" Bruce Wayne said, stony expression in place.

"He's coming with us, isn't he?" Jason asked suddenly. To hell with the other questions, the other concerns, the protocols and paperwork. Bruce nodded, and that was all he needed.

* * *

**August 28, 2017 03:02 - Infinity Island**

Dick stared at the miniature version of Bruce Wayne and found himself torn between yelling obscenities and laughing hysterically. Thankfully, Nightwing took over and the mission overrode any need for an outburst.

"Son? You realize his son attacked first, right?" he asked.

"If Damian wanted to attack, he would have. The rest is simply a call for attention," Talia pointed out.

"Well, I'd say he got it."

Batman approached the pair of them, switching between inspecting the child and glaring at Talia. The assassin, however, did not back down at his narrowed eyelets. She crossed her arms, silently daring him to say something inappropriate here and now.

"Why do you need my help now?" Batman settled on, his voice low.

"As I said, circumstances changed."

"What circumstances?"

Whether unconsciously or not, Dick wasn't sure. Either way, Talia pulled Damian closer to her side and looked around the pod-filled chamber. "You're in the middle of an army. Unfinished, untrained, but an army. Someone needs to lead them. Someone needs to perfect them. My father is working on the latter. My son is intended as the former."

"He's supposed to lead an army of dead people at the age of, what, six?" Batgirl snapped.

"I'm seven," the ninja boy snapped.

"Good for you," Spoiler replied.

Talia hesitated for a moment, but her eye's never left Batman's. "I am sure you can do the math."

Lucky for Batman (or, perhaps, unlucky…), he didn't need to do it alone. Dick remembered where they were eight years ago exactly and the heartbreak Bruce caused Talia. Even in their last moments, they were practically attached at the…

He didn't want to think about it.

"And you expect a seven-year-old to lead an army?" Batman's growl was so low, his anger so palpable, that even Talia took a small step back.

"I do not expect a seven-year-old to do any such thing," she snapped back, gaining control of herself and pushing her way forward in their tug-of-war. "My father expects him to rise to the occasion once he is trained. Until then, those that have proven to be most successful will continue to train alongside him and guard him when necessary."

"And you don't want this for him?" Batman asked.

"I don't want it for either of them…"

* * *

**We're getting so close! Thank you again for all your support so far, and as usual any additional reviews, follows, and favorites would be greatly appreciated! Also, for anyone wanting to read some family scenes taken from this story, feel free to take a peek at ****_The More Things Change_****. I know, I know, shameless plugs are shameless. **

**-Defective**


	10. Chapter 10

**Update! A little later than I expected, but hopefully not too late. Happy reading!**

* * *

**August 28, 2017 03:12 - Infinity Island**

There was good timing, there was bad timing, and then there was Bat timing. Basically, anything that could possibly go wrong didn't just go wrong, but went so wrong that there had to be a higher power at work for the sole purpose of enjoying the entertainment factor. At least, that's what Dick believed. Only through someone else's sick pleasure could so much go so incredibly downhill so fast.

_"I don't want it for either of them…" _

Talia's words hit Nightwing in a way he couldn't begin to describe. Something in her tone, in the way she conveyed so much more than just the words she said told him this mission was far more messed up than he originally thought. This was already true with the mini-al Ghul staring straight at them. This was something else, though.

And whatever could be more than Bruce Wayne's unknown, ninja offspring had to be at least twelve different kinds of crazy. Too bad they didn't get another moment to find out.

Crashing echoed around them, resonating off the high ceilings and metal panels that surrounded them. Footsteps, some in perfect unison, some patches in an awkward, uneven shuffle, made their way through the room. Suddenly, dozens of lackeys were upon them, marching on the balcony Damian had just pounced from and even through the door they had broken into. Nightwing cursed the unheeded warning that this whole thing had been too easy up to now.

"Detective," a familiar voice called from the balcony. Each one of the bats, even Talia and Damian, stiffened just a little at the recognition of Ra's's calm, methodical tone. "I would say this was an unexpected surprise, but this would be false."

Scattered around his usual assassins in their matching uniforms was a smattering of new pawns. Black jackets and what Nightwing would bet his escrima sticks was kevlar stretched themselves over tensed muscles. The only thing that differentiated small groups of them were their masks or helmets. Some of them, snarling and gnashing teeth, had metal masks over their mouths. Dick couldn't begin to guess why, but the masks resembled a dog's snout with all the slobbering noises those wearing them made. The others wore helmets of different shapes and colors.

There had to be no more than dozen. Some had green, army-like helmets. Their eyes, barely visible in the window-less masks, were vacant and the only sign of life was the grabbing of their guns. Like wind-up toy soldiers. A few black helmets, like the faces of snakes, were sprinkled throughout, their owners twitching and shifting like schizophrenics on a sugar high.

He almost didn't spot the third color. Red, gleaming in the lights of the room, suddenly stuck out of the crowd. This one didn't make any twitching movements, any gnashing noises, nor did it look like a tin toy. Its wearer slowly approached them and stopped a few feet behind Talia and Damian, holding himself still. Just waiting.

"I would rather this didn't come to any physical action," Ra's said above them. "Though, I must say you've forced my hand with this intrusion."

The doors opened again, this time with their four teammates being dragged in with inhibitor collars. Though the collar did little to Tigress, Nightwing winced at the sight of the rising bruise at her temple. His blood boiled as he watched his friends roughly deposited by the bloodied, cracked pod.

Batman kept his cool, his gaze trained up at the Demon's Head above him. "What you're doing here is wrong."

How he could make words like a kindergarten teacher's sound threatening still eluded Dick. Perhaps it couldn't be taught quite like batarang throwing could. Nightwing would have to stick to snark, it seemed.

"What I am doing is necessary," Ra's said. "I am perfecting war."

"You're playing god," said Batman.

"I am not _playing_ at anything."

* * *

**October 24, 2013 15:36 - Gotham**

"He hasn't done anything for days," Jason whispered.

He and Dick stood just outside Tim's new room. The boy had kept himself practically boarded up in there. Dick wondered for a moment if it was worse than a few weeks before when Jason had kept to himself after the Garzonas incident. At least Jason left the room, though quietly and clearly when everyone else was asleep or away. There were no signs that Tim had left at all.

"He's going to starve to death if no one does anything," Dick sighed.

"Too bad Bruce has been keeping himself barricaded in his study."

They glanced down the hallway toward the closed door, clueless as to what their foster father could be reviewing. It had to do with Tim, that much was obvious. They could hear him at all hours, poring over documents and shuffling papers like he was lost in some IRS hell.

"They said it was an accident in the Caribbean?" Jason asked.

"That's what I heard, but we both know something's up," replied Dick, careful to keep his voice at a whisper.

"You think they were murdered?"

"After all their secret meetings with Bruce? Maybe it's a coincidence and it was just some unfortunate accident, who knows? At least Tim wasn't on that trip."

"They never really took Tim with them when they went away, though. If he were any more of a latchkey kid, they'd have to name it after him." Jason made a face at the memory of how often the Drakes would leave.

"They were still good people and good to him when they were around. Keep an open mind. It also doesn't mean Tim is hurting any less."

"I never said he was," Jason said defensively before his shoulders slumped. "Either way, it's not fair. He was at least mostly happy. Like you were and Bruce was. It's not fair. No kid should have decent parents taken from them."

Dick watched his little brother for a while, biting back comments at the noticeable lack of a mention of his own parents. Willis Todd was no surprise: the man was about as much of a father to Jason as a cockroach was a cuddly pet. Catherine was a sore subject he knew better than to discuss, especially now.

"Sometimes, bad things happen," Dick offered.

"It's not fair."

They decided to give Tim and Bruce any space they needed to work out the latest unfortunate events. Not an easy task when patrols were quiet, if they happened collectively at all. Jason was getting restless with being left home more often than not, learning to entertain himself more with the cave computer. After all, there were still files encrypted under his name he had to break into.

Finally, over a week after they had taken Tim into the house, all four of them sat in Bruce's study, an anxious tension hanging over them. Dark circles marred Bruce's otherwise perfect appearance, the man pinching the bridge of his nose as they all glanced around for clues to why they had all been called together.

"First, Tim, I hope you're finding our home to be as comfortable as possible for you. I know this is a difficult time, but if there is anything we can do, please let us know," he started. Tim merely nodded, his eyes downcast.

"Second, I wanted to talk to you about something. I know this is personal, but I thought it would be best to speak to you all together, as it deals with all of you."

For the first time since the Drakes' death, the boys exchanged a look. If Bruce Wayne was this serious about something, it was cause to be concerned. A pile of papers littered his desk and, as Dick peered up to his foster father's eyes, he saw just how anxious the man was.

"What is it?" the eldest asked.

"Jack and Janet Drake requested in their will that I… that I adopt you, Tim," he started, looking toward the youngest boy. He waited a moment before turning to the other two, "I am completely willing to follow through with this request. However, it also made me reflect on my own choices. My own… home. I realized that if I were to do it for one, I would want to extend the option to all three of you."

With that, he pulled out three separate files from his piles of papers and pushed them toward the three boys. "I understand either way. Whatever choice you make, I understand. But, I would be honored to be your legal parent if you would allow me the opportunity. Tim, I know this may be soon; Dick, I know this may seem like I am replacing the parents you already and and feel like too little, too late; Jason, I know you do not trust parents in general. I would not blame any of you for denying this. However, the papers are there if you want to sign them."

The four of them sat there, silence spreading over nervous minutes. Finally, Dick looked up and asked, "So, you'd be our legal father? Not just a foster father."

"Right," Bruce said.

"Do we need to call you Dad?" Jason asked.

"You can call me Bruce or whatever you wish you call me. Within reason. Nothing has to change but what we are by law."

Jason stared down at the paper. "But, you'll be my father. By law. Not Willis Todd."

"That is correct."

Jason immediately reached for a pen.

Dick bit his lip, tentatively reaching for his own. "You're not going to replace my father?"

"I would never want to."

The eldest nodded, and began to sign his name. After a while, Tim glanced between the paper and Bruce, the billionaire providing a supportive smile to his newest ward.

"Are you sure about this?" Tim asked, the first words out of his mouth for days.

"More sure than I've been about anything."

Tim took a deep breath, looked at his two "older brothers," and reached for a third pen, signing his name. He would have to get used to his new name, Dick reckoned. Timothy Drake Wayne.

* * *

**August 14, 2014 01:49 - Gotham**

It was just a name.

No, it was more than that. It was blood. History. A slew of unanswered questions and potential relationships. It was a promise of some happy home, even if it was some distant dream rather than a reality.

"Sheila Haywood."

Batman and Nightwing had been out for hours, leaving Jason and Tim on their own, save for the occasional checks from Alfred. Tim was busy reconfiguring a few of the latest computers when Jason had finished decrypting the files under his name. Well, when Tim _helped_ him finish decrypting the files under his name.

"You sure you're okay?" Tim asked after a session on the rings.

"Fine," Jason said shortly.

Tim gave him an uneasy look before making his way back into the mansion, leaving Jason to his research. Cases the teen didn't understand mixed with testimonies in Gotham and Ethiopia. His mother—his real mother—was a doctor. At least, she seemed like a doctor. Nothing else mattered. She did good for people, just like Jason hoped a parent would. Just like he had always wanted a parent to do. She was someone to look up to, admire.

And Bruce kept her from him.

At first he was irritated. Then angry. Then seething. By the time the Batmobile screeched into the cave, Jason was beyond irate. His mother, the woman who had actually given birth to him and might actually want him, had been kept from him by the man who had just recently claimed himself to be Jason's father. Fine, sure, Sheila hadn't been there since Jason was a baby, Catherine had, but she had to have a good reason. She had to. Mothers always had good reasons for leaving their children.

"You lied to me."

No "hello" or "how was the mission?" Jason stared at Bruce, shaking with anger. Seconds of twisted tension spread over them before Nightwing even knew what was happening. Then, between the computer monitor flickering not far from them and the stern but ever-so-slightly guilty look on Bruce's face, he had an idea.

"What did you find out about Jason's parents?"

It had to be about them. Nothing else would get the boy so worked up so much without even hearing the other side. Parents, Dick had learned long ago, were Jason's soft spot. Especially mothers.

"You were not meant to see that. Not now," Batman said, voice firm as he stared at Jason.

"You know exactly what I mean, then! You knew!"

"We're not discussing this now, Robin."

"No! I'm Jason now, and you're Bruce, and we're talking about this!" the boy screamed, emphasizing his yells by tossing equipment from the nearby desk to the floor. "We're talking about this now! You knew!"

Bruce tore the cowl back faster than Dick had ever seen. "You need to calm down, Jason. We'll discuss this calmly and rationally, but you need to calm down."

"I don't have to do shit!" Jason screamed. "You kept it from me! You kept my father's death from me, and now you kept my real mother from me!"

"Just because she is the woman who gave birth to you, it doesn't make her your mother, Jason!"

"And just because you signed a paper, it doesn't make you my dad!"

The two of them stared at each other, Dick clearly seeing the regret of their own words over their every feature. Jason had never seemed so small, so vulnerable before. Bruce had never seemed so human. So wounded.

"Jason," the man started, rubbing a hand over his face, "I know you want to know more about her. I'm sorry keeping your mother from you has upset you so much. Of course it's understandable. But, I needed to find out more about her, to verify if the information was correct, before I brought you into this. The last thing I would ever want to do to you is hurt you."

"You knew keeping my father's death from me hurt. We talked about it. I never thought you'd do it again," Jason said, though Dick was mildly pleased his voice was at least calm and even.

"How much of the file did you read?" Bruce asked.

Jason shrugged. "Enough. Sheila Haywood had me when she was young and trying to get into college. She's now a doctor somewhere in Africa. Ethiopia or something. That's as far as I could get from your files. My mom is a doctor? How is that bad for me to know, Bruce?"

"Because I don't want you to get your hopes up about something if it may be more than just a doctor helping in Africa. She has files here in Gotham. They were difficult to find, but I am trying to piece together who she is and what she is doing. She may be into something, both here and in Ethiopia, but I'm not sure yet. All I know is it involves her clinic. I wanted to give you the full story before I told you anything at all."

"You should have told me to begin with," Jason said, crossing his arms. While his posture was curling in on itself as it tended to do in his defensive, hermit crab state, Dick was relieved he was at least cooling down. Defensive but calm was a lot better than irrational for his little brother.

"I am sorry I did not tell you to begin with, but you have to trust that I have my reasons, Jay," Bruce insisted, stepping closer to his adoptive son. "I want what's best for you."

"What's best for me is trusting where I come from. Knowing who Sheila Haywood is, what is happening with her is what I need right now. You're my father now, Bruce, but I need to know who my mom is. I need to know what she's doing."

Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose before glancing over to Dick. The oldest son of the Bat was now also one of his most pragmatic and trusted allies. Dick knew whatever he said would sway the man's decision.

"Let's find out what Sheila Haywood is up to."

* * *

**August 28, 2017 03:25 - Infinity Island**

"What are you up to?" Bruce snarled, staring down the ancient man as if he were staring down any other street thug. The only sign he remotely respected the man he was glaring at was the resistance in his stance. He kept himself from launching at the near-immortal, but just barely.

"We already spoke of this, detective. War is coming. War is always on the brink, of course, but I have discovered a way to make the outcome decidedly in your favor."

"A league of zombie assassins?" Robin snapped at the man, earning a sideways glance from Bruce and Talia, not to mention a death glare from Damian.

"Not quite as elegant a phrase as I would use, boy," Ra's said, as cool as ever. "What do you think would happen if you used your enemy's weaknesses against them? Their hearts? Their souls? What do you suppose someone would do if they saw a loved one fighting against them? A ghost battling on the other side?"

Nearby, the pile of team members stirred, M'gann struggling to rise to her feet. Her collar was discarded on the floor, Tigress struggling to keep her face steady. Dick could feel the psychic link reconnecting, or whatever he thought a psychic link did. If they kept the villain distracted long enough, perhaps they could use their combined powers (or, lack thereof) to over take him and his lackeys and get the hell out of there.

A longshot, but still a shot.

"What you're doing is unnatural."

"No more unnatural than evolution. We grow, we learn, we thrive or die. It's the cycle of life."

"How would you know about the cycle of life?" Nightwing snapped. "You've been stuck in the same state for years."

"I've lived more lifetimes than you can imagine, child. Death is a final lesson, but decades, centuries of living is far better a teacher than the cold grip of death. Those around me can tell you that. Well, some can," Ra's finished, sending a look toward the masked men snarling and biting behind their metal masks. "Not all quite went as planned. One, however, has proven more successful. There are still some problems, but one has helped us narrow down the variables considerably. The degree of decay, type of death, location, and previous lifestyle. All important pieces to the puzzle."

Ra's looked down at the the red helmeted figure. Talia, staring between her father and Bruce, pulled Damian closer to herself.

"Do not do this. Not this way," she insisted, standing firm in spite of her slightly unsteady voice.

"I am sorry, my dear. It is the only way," Ra's said. Then, with a nod toward the red helmet, the figure pounced toward the bats with movements they had not seen since… well, since themselves.

He was strong, fast, agile. Everything they would assume an assassin could be. Trained to perfection and, with each narrow dodge and each vicious punch toward one of them, he was clearly beyond a simple soldier.

Still, he was human. Limited. Others fled toward them to help in the chaos. Assassins distracted Tim and Stephanie while Barbara and Bruce attempted to figure out just what the hell to do with Damian and Talia. Nightwing was left to stare down the shining red metal, the eyes glassy and expressionless.

Good. That made it easier to kick the hell out of whoever they had brought back. Whoever they had robbed of a restful peace.

Nightwing stepped forward, escrima sticks at the ready. Only when he was inches away, a mere second from landing a hit to the figure's ribcage, did he feel himself propelled backward. A scream burst from near the broken pod, and the entire chamber seemed to radiate with a terrifying eruption of energy.

"Stop!" M'gann screamed.

Nightwing sat up, looking around the vast room. Every person, assassins, bats, and team members alike, were all flat on their backs or held up against a wall. The martian's eyes glowed a radioactive green, and her gaze landed on the red helmeted opponent now a good twenty feet from Nightwing.

"Stop," she repeated, her voice shaky.

"What the hell was that about?" Spoiler asked, holding her head. Tim, Barbara, and Dick just looked at their old teammate

"Please, don't." M'gann's eyes turned back into a soft brown, though many still felt pinned against their respective surfaces. "Don't hurt him."

"I would have been fine," Nightwing insisted.

"I don't mean you," she said, turning her fearful eyes toward him. "Don't hurt _him_."

She took her hand from where she was holding it, letting go of half of her pinned hostages. Now, she focused on the red helmeted figure alone. Her eyes, now shining with tears, didn't blink as she stared the enemy down.

"You can't hurt him," she insisted. And, with that, she burst her fist open. For a moment, it seemed as if nothing had happened. Then, Dick noticed the red helmet was pulling away from its owner. He readied himself for falling skin, decaying flesh, rotting bone.

He never could have prepared himself for this.

As the helmet fell to the ground with a resounding thud, the world stopped. Air stilled and the chamber went so silent Dick could hear his heartbeat in his ears.

Then, breathless, eyes prickling with burning tears, he muttered the only name he never expect to say.

"Jason."

* * *

**One more chapter before... well, you know. I hope this is continuing to live up to (or, fingers crossed, exceed) expectations! Let me know what you think!**

**- Defective**


	11. Chapter 11

**August 28, 2017 03:31 — Infinity Island**

It wasn't real. It couldn't be real. He had seen his brother dead three years ago. Three long years. Standing there now, the image replayed in his mind over and over. The sights, sounds, and smells of the night hit him in waves. It was as if a thousand-pound weight had settled itself over Nightwing's chest. He couldn't breathe, couldn't think.

"Jason…" he managed, if only to try and get the vision to go away.

Except, Batman saw it too. More than Batman—Bruce. They say no one should ever bury their child, and now Bruce had to see his dead son in front of him, tainted at the hands of the enemy, lined up for battle and robbed of a peaceful sleep. The yell that ripped from his throat was that of a father who lost a child, not a general who lost a soldier. The speed and force that propelled their mentor forward was from the pain of reliving the murder of a loved one, not the loss of a protégé.

Talia stepped backward, pulling Damian with her and away from the savage display, but there was no need. Batman's sights were on her father, and no amount of trained assassins, regenerated or not, would keep him from his target.

"What have you done?!" he boomed. He grabbed for Ra's, his gloved hands curling around his cloak. "What have you done to him?!"

"I brought him back," said Ra's, the look in his eyes the only outward sign of mild fear.

"Into what?!" he raged.

Nightwing peeled his eyes away from the scene, turning them back toward those of his younger brother. He searched briefly for a sign that this was just a lookalike or some Cadmus clone. The others, both the family and the team, were doing the same. Tigress looked like she was between panicking and punching someone. Superboy and Aqualad were working their way out of their inhibitor collars between staving off the rest of the regenerated soldiers. Miss Martian just kept her stare on Jason. At least, until something in his mind repelled her, freeing him from her telepathic grip.

Behind him, Dick could feel the others ready for a fight as the now-free Jason gave a quick scan over the bats, pausing for an extra moment over Tim before returning his attention to his big brother.

Then, without a word, an unholy yell burst from the younger man and he launched himself at Nightwing.

The chamber filled with the sounds of a hundred battles at once. Dog-like snarling joined fist to flesh in a cacophony of pain and anger. None were louder than Bruce and Jason, each attacking as if their lives depended on it.

Even if he weren't completely thrown for a loop, Dick wasn't sure he would be able to keep up with the sheer rage his brother was fighting with. Every hit he would dodge, another came his way, connecting into his jaw, cheek, stomach. As soon as one landed, another one was sent forward to replace it.

The abuse continued, but Dick doubted he could lift his fists against his dead little brother. He knew he had to defend himself, but a few blocks were all he could mentally prepare. If Batman weren't so busy raising hell, Nightwing knew he would be disappointed at his lack of focus.

A vicious yell punctured the chaos above, Batman sending Ra's flying with a single strike. Perhaps focus wasn't only Dick's problem.

"Stop," Talia instructed.

No raised voice or expended effort, just a short command laced with guarded emotion. Her body was turned toward the battle between her father and former lover, her left arm guarding Damian while her right pointed a gun at the air between Jason and Dick, gaze locked on the pair of them. Immediately, Jason obeyed. Dick watched as Talia approached the younger man, her son in tow.

"You don't want to do this," she said.

Jason's gloved hands clenched in silent protest, but he remained still. Realizing neither boy was a danger to the other, Talia lowered her weapon. The small movements and the look in their eyes returned some sense to the eldest bird.

"What have you done to him?" he asked through clenched teeth.

If looks could kill, Talia would have downed Dick in a heartbeat. Well, he figured at least they were near the Lazarus Pit.

"Do you really believe I am who you should be directing that question toward?" she asked.

"You tell me."

Talia stepped slowly, deliberately closer to him. "I was not aware his dying had anything to do with me. I would wager you should direct your anger to a more deserving target. You do remember who that is, don't you?"

Nightwing squared his jaw, a rush of hatred sending a cold chill through his veins.

"Yes. I remember."

* * *

**August 27, 2014 12:26 – Happy Harbor**

"Remember, keep your com piece in. I mean it."

It was rare, almost never, that Batman pulled an individual team member aside prior to a mission, but these were special circumstances. Jason had pleaded—literally begged—that they turn the Sheila Haywood case into a team operation. After weeks of researched, first by Bruce and then by the pair of them, Jason was convinced her good intentions were being used against her. Though he would never say them out loud, Batman held his own concerns. Even now, behind the cowl and cold stare, Dick could see them in the expression his mentor practiced hiding.

"Yeah, yeah, I will. Com is in, teams are set, mission planned, parameters strictly enforced, threats of seriously clipped wings if I go against protocol. We're good to go, okay? The only thing we're missing is the 'go' part," Robin said.

Batman gave him a look so serious the younger bird coughed uncomfortably. "Sorry, just… eager."

"You need to get your head in the right place."

"It _is_ in the right place. You know, with the mission. To help Sheila. Everything will be fine. I'll do as I'm told and it's not like this is the worst we've been on. No one's been all that hurt before, even against The Light and the whole Injustice League. Nothing is going to happen this time, either. So… let's go?"

The bat gave his protégé one last warning stare before heading to the middle of the room, turning on the large computer with a wave of his hand. "We have two drop zones. Aqualad will be heading up Alpha Squad including Miss Martian, Kid Flash, Artemis, and Superboy. You will monitor the incoming and outgoing trucks from the clinic. See if you can find what is being delivered, and what is being exchanged."

"Beta Squad will be led by Nightwing and include Batgirl, Troia, and Robin," he continued, though Nightwing saw his mentor's stony glare waver for just a moment. Robin was emotionally invested in this case. Dick knew it could prove an asset or, more frighteningly, a serious liability. He'd have to keep a closer watch than usual on him.

Robin, meanwhile, had never looked so ready for a mission before in his entire time on the team. If he had any more focus, Dick figured he could develop x-ray vision.

Batman looked at the younger boy for a long moment before adding, "Beta will observe the clinic and see if they can find who the investor is, and why Sheila Haywood is being blackmailed."

"Delta Squad led by Rocket, including Zatanna, Tempest, Aquagirl, and Sergeant and Lieutenant Marvel, are on a separate mission, but are on standby and will rendezvous with you if needed. Remember, this mission is covert. Stay out of sight."

Jason shook his head, the gesture sending a wave of doubt through Nightwing. If whoever was involved with Haywood's clinic was a serious heavy-hitter like Batman guessed, having Jason less-than-cooperative was the last thing they needed. Maybe he should sit this one out… though, Dick knew how that conversation would end. If they benched Jason, he'd only run off. No, the close eye really was the best option at this point.

And, for the first hour or so, the close eye option had been working. They took Sphere as M'gann flew the others in a camouflaged Bioship. The scheduled deliveries were right on time, the anticipated number of guards, doctors, and civilians were all where they expected them to be. Everything was going according to plan. In fact, the occasional static from his com link and slight interference with his gauntlet computer were the only known issues, and even those were practically non-existent.

It was enough to give Nightwing hope.

"Alpha Squad to Beta," M'gann said psychically, "a new shipment has just arrived. It is docking now. Guards along the southwest corridor have been called in to assist. That seems to be your best opening."

"Confirmed," Nightwing replied. "Going around to the southwest corridor. Scanning the area for possible obstacles now. Any sign of anyone out of the ordinary?"

"Negative."

Nightwing sighed, looking toward Robin. Though the boy was careful to keep his thoughts to himself, it didn't take a psychic link to know he was on the lookout for his mother. Not that Dick could blame him. He almost hoped the woman would pop out of nowhere and ruin the whole covert thing just so Jason could talk to her. Almost.

No, there would be plenty of time for that once they verified that Sheila Haywood was a legitimate doctor with a legitimate refugee clinic and her mystery investor was some billionaire who was just sending along his cure for cancer, malaria, and every other horrible disease. Then Jason could meet her, find out she had wanted him all along, and he'd have a complete set of parents that he had been robbed of most of his childhood.

It had to go like that, because there was no way Jason wouldn't leave this whole mission completely crushed if anything went wrong.

"How you feeling?" he heard Troia whisper to Robin.

"Fine…"

Nightwing almost felt her sarcastic, "Yeah, right," over the link, unable to keep from smirking.

Jason sighed, curling a little into himself, his cape like protective wings over the rest of him. Though the last few years had been good to Jason, filling him out with lean muscle thanks to regular meals and training, not to mention a few growth spurts, he still could look so small when he got so uneasy.

"Okay… Nervous. Not like I'll get to speak to her or anything. Not yet. How would you feel?"

"The same. Don't be nervous, though."

"That's easy for an Amazonian princess to say," he said, breaking into a small grin.

"Says the Prince of Gotham," she returned.

Batgirl shared a knowing glance with Nightwing. Puppy love could be so… adorable. Not that the other two would ever admit to it, but it had been clear ever since Jason had revealed his name to Donna over a year earlier.

_"Were we that obvious?"_ she asked through lowered lashes, careful to keep her mind clear.

_"You kidding? We were worse."_

He cleared his throat, grabbing the attention of his preoccupied teammates. "Alright, I hate to break this up, but we have a mission to do. We'll go into the southwest corridor. If you see anyone or anything, say something. Keep your coms in just in case something happens to the psychic link."

With a glance toward Robin, he made it clear the last two lines were directed entirely on him. Still, Jason was apparently in too jittery of a mood to take offense, his eyes focused on a jeep driving off in the distance.

Even Troia looked at the boy uneasily. "You going to stay with us, nerve boy?"

"Hey, remember what I always say?" he started, jitters momentarily replaced by teenage arrogance. "Whisper my name and I'll follow you anywhere."

"You think that line is still cute, don't you?" she asked.

"And so do you. Even if you never admit it."

* * *

**August 27, 2014 19:17 – Bekoji **

Nightwing had to remind himself to stay focused. There was no way they could have anticipated this. He hadn't experienced this type of interference to his systems since the night he met his brother. Still, he should have remembered before now. Even in the middle of rural Ethiopia, he should have second-guessed the slight trip-ups before now.

The building had been largely empty of normal clinic personnel, that much was true. However, they weren't alone. An ominous cloud rolled over Nightwing the moment his eyes landed on Joker's henchmen dressed in white jackets, the smugly smirking bastards practically giddy at them waltzing right toward them.

"Beta Squad! Get out!" Miss Martian had just enough time to yell through the psychic link before it was broken. Immediately after, the com link went dead, followed by a surge of static and waves over Nightwing's gauntlet computer. Interference akin to what he had experienced the night he met Jason.

This wasn't just Joker. Whatever Sheila Haywood had gotten herself into, she was in deep. Nightwing turned to see Robin's face contort in fear and rage as the same realization came over him. Dick could see one thought play over and over in his brother's features.

_"Mom…"_

For years Dick would strain to remember when it happened. How it happened. How he had _let_ it happen. He would struggle with questions about how he could tear his eyes off of Jason for even just one moment. How, even in the chaos, he should have seen more. Noticed more. Done more.

The fight that ensued between the heroes and the henchmen grabbed his attention for just a moment too long. Nightwing turned to survey the area, to assess the best route and to find a way to contact the Justice League, when he realized Robin was missing.

"Where is he?!" he yelled.

Batgirl and Troia didn't need to ask who he meant. As they threw more punches toward their opponents, they scanned the clinic to see it for themselves. Panic rose over the three of them in a violent surge, and Dick knew in that horrible instant that he had allowed Jason to do exactly what he was supposed to keep him from. It was his fault his little brother was able to run off on his own. Anything that happened to the younger bird was on his shoulders.

"We need to disable the device blocking our signals, call Batman, and find Robin. Once the coms are back up, we need the others to regroup with us," he said as they disposed of the last henchmen. Batgirl and Troia sent him short nods and raced through the clinic to find the Light tech that had been partially responsible for his meeting Jason in the first place.

Twenty minutes. It took twenty minutes to find the damn thing. Images of Gloria and Garzonas suddenly flipped through Nightwing's mind. A lot could happen in twenty minutes, and it was only just now that they were working to reestablish communication.

How much longer before they found Jason?

He pushed the thought away and pulled a gadget out of his utility belt. Attaching it to the otherwise-unimpressive little computer screeching obnoxious noises and blinking with bits of code, he activated it the instant he pulled away. A current of electricity flared, silencing the computer. It took another second, but soon their coms were back up with a painful high-pitched wail.

Not even waiting for the spots in his vision or pain in his ear to die down, Nightwing pulled up his gauntlet and signaled for help. He just hoped Delta Squad and Batman were quick.

If he knew then what he would continue to have nightmares about for years, he would have almost wished it had taken only twenty minutes. While his prayers were answered with a swift gathering of every team member and Batman, the search itself was far from fast.

They had been able to track his utility belt, left abandoned by a set of packed Jeeps. Several of the cars were missing, and Batman assessed two of them were taken within a few minutes of each other.

"Dude, just tell me where to go and I'll start running," Wally insisted, a bad bruise forming on his temple, his leg bent at an odd angle.

"You're in no shape to run," Batman managed, jaw squared as he looked over the group. "Zatanna."

No order was necessary. The magician pulled up a map and attempted to locate Jason. With some complicated incantations, she narrowed it down to a warehouse several miles out of the small town.

Batman didn't wait. For once, he left the team without instruction, without a word of guidance. The bat who was always so mission-focused was losing in this moment to the man beneath him, to Bruce on the hunt for his missing son.

Nightwing wasn't about to let him go alone.

Sphere was fast. The Batwing was faster. Still, every minute that ticked by reminded Dick how long it had been since Robin had disappeared. He had never felt so much worry in his life until now. Not with Zucco hunting for him, not with Batman mind-controlled, not with the series of missions they had faced up to this one.

The warehouse came into view. Shoddy metal walls in front of two dusty Jeeps. Jason was just behind them, he knew it. A coat of purple emerged from one of the doors and looked up at the two vehicles approaching.

He could swear, even from that distance, he could see Joker waving at them, smiling

_You had better be okay, Jason. Please be okay. If I…_

Dick stopped himself before he allowed his thoughts to run much further. He had to be alright. There was no alternative. Maybe bruised up and with a wounded pride, but he would be fine. At least, until he and Batman got a hold of him.

_When I get my hands on him, I'm going to kill him. _

He watched as one of the Jeeps drove at full-speed away from them. They could catch up if they wanted to. If they were focused more on the mission at hand.

_To hell with the mission. _

It had been almost two hours since Robin had gone missing, but now they were so close. Sphere prepared to touch down, and the only thought running through Nightwing's mind was just how many curses he was going to scream at his little brother once he made sure the boy was okay.

Noise followed by hellfire burst from the warehouse. Everything went white for a moment, the heat making the teen yell in surprise and panic. The force of it shook them, and Dick was certain it made the world stand still. If only for a minute, the whole of the universe stopped.

* * *

**Yep, I left it there. I'm a horrible person. This chapter became longer than I expected, so it needed to be broken up a bit, and here seemed like a good (or, evil) place to end it. Hopefully you all still enjoyed the read, though!**

**- Defective**


	12. Chapter 12

**Fair warning, and perhaps goes without saying, but this will not be a happy chapter. Still, I hope you all like it! Thanks again to everyone who has read/reviewed/favorited/followed. It really means a lot to me! I'm not sure how many more chapters there will be in this, but definitely a few more on the way. **

* * *

**August 27, 2014 20:53 – Bekoji**

Of all the moments in his life, this was the one Dick would close his eyes and wish away the most. He knew the instant he thought about it, all of those long-buried sensations would come back to him, fresh as yesterday. The burning air, ash, and metal twisting together with the vicious heat that surrounded them. Still, he tried, time and again, to make it not true.

"Nightwing!" Batman's voice broke through the surreal white noise in his ears, solidifying the reality. "Stay back!"

"But—"

"No. Stay back."

The Batwing and Sphere landed within seconds of each other, but time seemed to stretch on forever. Though Dick wanted nothing more than to run into the wreckage and search for his brother, something—obedience or fear—kept him rooted on the spot.

At a safe distance from the fire and debris, he watched helplessly as Batman searched for the missing bird. Just as the Bioship approached, Batman's search stopped.

Why was his mentor so still? Why was he so quiet? If he had found Jason, he should be barking orders about how to care for him until they could get him to the med bay. He should be yelling at Jason for being so stupid. He should say something, do something. Anything.

Against his better judgment, Nightwing rushed toward Batman. As he approached, he could make out figure, small and crumpled, curled against the vigilante.

_It doesn't mean anything. He's just telling Jason everything is going to be okay. We're going to get help. Everything will be fine._

In spite of his reassuring thoughts, the young hero propelled himself faster toward the scene. He could just make out blistering skin and singed cloth when something caught his foot. A tangled mess of blond hair and burnt features lay in a heap beneath him.

"Sheila?" he guessed.

The heap nodded. Her breathing was labored; her eyes rolled back a time or two into the back of her head. Dick was no doctor, but he had seen enough dying people to know what was happening.

"He tried to save me," she strained to say.

Pride surged within Nightwing, momentarily lessening his panic. "He does that."

"He… was a good son."

_No. No, he _**_is_**_ a good son. _**_Is_**_ a good brother._

Nightwing never had the chance to correct her. Like countless other victims before her, he watched as Sheila took her last breath and left the world behind. Though not particularly religious, Dick closed his eyes and said a few words for the woman that had given birth to his little brother. When the boy was well enough and found his efforts had been in vain, he knew how much it would hurt the emotional, impulsive boy he had grown to love. The boy who was curled in Batman's arms with fire raging around them.

"Batman!" he yelled. "How is Robin?"

Silence.

"Batman!"

Again, nothing. Just the Dark Knight cradling his bird.

Nightwing broke out into a run. They were thirty, twenty, ten feet away.

"Stop," Batman ordered.

"How is he?!"

"Nightwing…"

"No! How is he?! Tell me he's okay! Tell me he's—"

"Richard!"

Oh, God. Names in the field. Batman used his name in the field. The weight of it threatened to crush Dick as he stood there, waiting for something, anything, to come from Jason. A snarky remark, a cough, even just a shuddering breath. Just something that would take this terrible nightmare away.

"Richard, you need to stand back."

Batman's—no, Bruce's—voice shook with emotion. Though his large body and cape kept most of Jason shielded, Dick could see what counted.

He wasn't moving.

"He isn't… He can't be…"

"Stand. Back."

Dick felt his world crumble beneath him as he took a step back. He could sense the others departing from the Bioship, watching every movement, but no one made a sound. The crackling of fire and the thumping of his own heartbeat drowned out everything else. Finally, after forever and no time at all, Batman lifted Robin into his arms and stood amongst the destruction.

His mentor was careful to wrap the boy into his cape, like folded wings around a fallen baby bird. He turned the boy, just barely past fifteen, into his chest and away from the inferno that had angered his sensitive flesh. The pieces of him that were still visible once Batman had carefully adjusted him looked untouched. If Dick didn't know better, he'd believe Jason was only sleeping.

In some sense of the word, he supposed he was sleeping. It was better than thinking of the alternative.

"He's not breathing," Conner suddenly said to the crowd of shattered soldiers behind them.

It was then that Nightwing turned to face his teammates. Their expressions varied, from horror to disbelief, but they all just stood there. When Batman got closer, Nightwing following behind and careful to keep his gaze off the broken boy, an unbridled sadness began to make its way through the crowd.

"No. _No_." Barbara said first. Her red hair swung as she shook her head, eyes incredulous in spite of the sight in front of her. The closer they got, the more the doubt changed, morphing into watery grief. "No!"

Her shout felt like a gunshot through Dick's stomach. It both exhausted every part of him and sent a surge of energy through his chest. He had to do something to stop this pain. To make it go away. Immediately, his eyes landed on Zatanna, her own expression as pained as it was the moment she lost her father to Fate.

"You can bring him back, can't you?" The words left Nightwing before he knew what he was saying. "You know how. You know some incantation to bring him back. I know you do."

"Nightwing…"

"You have to know something," he tried.

Zatanna's eyes swam with tears, and she reached out to rest her hand gently on his arm. "I can't. I'm sorry."

He wasn't sure if he wanted to cry, scream, or laugh at the absurdity of the request and the clear insanity that was breaking out around him. When no one moved, he took one more look at the wrapped-up body clung to Batman. In that horrible second, everything became real. Jason was dead, and there was nothing he could do about it.

Dick wanted to break down, to yell and sob into the blackened air around him. To hell with pride, with nerve, with whatever else he was supposed to have. Nightwing faded against Dick's suffocating grief.

"Team, get back to the cave. We will… debrief later. Nightwing, you, Batgirl, and I will go to Gotham," Batman ordered.

Dick did not understand how his voice could remain so steady. Wasn't he feeling the same thing? The overwhelming sadness and loss? He took one look at his mentor, at the whitened eyes of the cowl, and knew this is how his adoptive father dealt with pain. He didn't. Chose not to. Not in front of anyone, anyway. He compartmentalized it into a neat little box in the back of his mind, choosing instead to square his jaw and forge on.

For that brief second, as much as he loved Bruce, he _hated_ Batman.

Still, like the good soldier and obedient protégé he was, he nodded and stepped toward the Batwing. He barely felt it when Wally pat him on the back in a show of brotherly solidarity. Didn't register it when Troia closed her eyes and whispered a small, "Jason". Refused to listen to the apologies and cries of the others. He couldn't now, or he'd shatter entirely.

He stepped into the plane, a steady but trembling Batgirl behind him. With one last glance to the smoldering earth where Jason took his last breaths, Nightwing felt a part of him die along with him.

* * *

**August 28, 2014 02:35 – Gotham**

The ride back to Gotham was silent save for the occasional flight instruction and the beeping of instruments. Batgirl had adopted the same look both Nightwing and Batman were far too accustomed to sporting—clenched teeth and gaunt, focused eyes.

"Beginning descent," Batman said from the controls.

It suddenly hit Dick that neither Alfred nor Tim knew what had happened. Though he understood Bruce's reasons for telling them in person, he couldn't help but feel the whole incident happening all over again. Tim would be happily asleep after hours of training, video games, and detective work. Alfred would be waiting up for them as usual, fully prepared to mend their wounds and tend to all four heroes before he allowed himself to retire for the night.

Three heroes. Only three, now. Nightwing looked back, through the plane's long corridor to the form lying securely in the back. Batman had found the longest, softest blanket he could find and draped it over his dead son's body, strapping him in like a toddler going for a car ride rather than a corpse on his final visit home.

_Corpse_. His throat burned at the thought of the word. Dick turned back around, tears blurring his vision. He had to hold it together. Had to be brave for Tim and Alfred. For Barbara. And, though he'd never admit he needed it, he had to stay brave for Bruce.

As they approached the Batcave, Bruce finally pulled off the cowl and allowed himself to turn back into the man behind the bat. Even now, Dick could see him wearing a mask. It cracked at the edges, shaking at the corners of his eyes and mouth, but somehow it held as he turned to Batgirl.

"Barbara, you should head home. I'll call your father and tell him… something happened. You should go home and see your family."

Abruptly, the redhead pulled off her own cowl and stared Bruce down. The watering of her eyes did nothing to soften the hardness of her glare. Though Dick knew she would never say it out loud, he heard her thoughts clearly as though they were still psychically linked.

They were part of her family, and she wasn't going anywhere.

Bruce simply nodded and turned to Nightwing, who kept his mask firmly in place. At the moment, it felt as if it were the only thing holding him together. "I'll tell Tim and Alfred."

"I'll tell Tim," Nightwing voiced firmly. "He doesn't need a clinical explanation."

Bruce visibly winced at his son's tone, and Dick was almost apologetic at the unintentional harshness that came with it. That did not stop him from feeling he was right. The thirteen-year-old may have been a genius-level detective, but he was still thirteen. He didn't need to hear his older brother died with some technical language.

His adoptive father turned back to the controls and powered down the Batwing, his large form shuddering with unshed emotions. Then, like tin wind-up toys, they rose in unison and went through the motions of departing the plane and returning to their lives. Dick closed his eyes as he walked passed what was left of Jason, wanting nothing more than to be someone else, live someone else's life, until the pain went away.

Bruce was the last to depart, unbuckling Jason and lifting him back into his arms, careful to keep the blanket over him. Dick heard the man take a shaky breath, watched as he closed his eyes and steeled himself for what was still to come. How he could hold so steady was beyond him. Dick couldn't be sure if it was strength or weakness that allowed him to carry on as if it were just another part of the job.

"Hey!" Tim's voice carried through the cave. "How did it go? Jay, what's she like? Did you show her that move you were showing me in training? Oh, and you might want to restart on Street Fighter, by the way. I totally crushed your score."

Shit. Tim was awake. Why the hell was Tim awake, and in the cave no less? Dick braced himself, intercepting him before the younger teen could see Jason. Though his mask was still on, it didn't take more than a second for Tim to note the rest of the look on Nightwing's face.

"What's wrong?" he asked, unblinking.

Dick reached up and pulled the mask from his eyes, taking a deep breath. "Tim, something happened."

"Where's Jay?"

"We ran into some unexpected problems. He…"

Dick winced at the sound of his own voice. He sounded just like what he would expect from Bruce. Calculated and clinical.

"Where's Jay?" Tim asked once more, blue eyes staring through him.

Shuddering breaths met shaking limbs as Dick prepared for the words he couldn't bear to say. "He's gone, Tim."

"What do you mean, gone? Where did he _go_?"

Thank goodness Barbara approached them in that moment. Dick felt like his knees would have given out if he had to try to say it one more time. He felt her place her hand on his back, steadying him, giving him whatever strength she had left so he could finish his unpleasant task.

"We lost him. There was an explosion and… Tim, he didn't make it."

Tim shook his head, eyes darting between the pair of them and Bruce emerging from the plane. At the sight of the youngest son still awake and in the cave, apparently he had thought it better to leave Jason out of sight. The dark look on his face was all it took for it to become real to the bird-in-training. Without another word, Tim turned on his heels and ran out of the cave, darting past a distraught Alfred.

"Master Bruce—"

"We need to make the necessary arrangements," Bruce said, rubbing a hand over his face.

Something in his words sent a fire through Dick, hot and angry as the one they had just pulled Jason from. The teen approached his parent, glaring daggers into him.

"Arrangements?! Is that what you care about right now?! Jason died, Bruce! Died! This isn't some damn Wayne Enterprise banquet or something! This is his life, and it's gone!" he screamed.

Silence washed over the cave except for the occasional squeak of bats and his own shallow breaths. For a moment, Dick was sure Bruce was going to slap him square across the face. He wasn't entirely sure he wouldn't deserve it, either. He didn't care.

Instead, Bruce stepped forward and placed his hands, somehow both firm and gentle, on his son's shoulders. "I know, Dick."

At that, everything he had been holding back burst forth, and Dick collapsed into Bruce's arms with a gut-wrenching sob. Everything he had, every ounce of strength left in him, left as he cried into Bruce's shoulder. He felt his adoptive father wrap his large arms around him, the only things holding him upright. Dick wrapped his own arms, horribly weak and shaky, around the man's shoulders. Together, they just stood there, letting the world come crashing down around them.

It could have been a minute or an hour, Dick wasn't sure. But, after his tears ran out and his throat felt torn and swollen from his cries, he finally pulled away. Barbara immediately approached him, wrapping an arm around his middle, though whether it was to steady herself or to offer him strength was unclear. Perhaps a little of both. They could support each other through this. They would have to.

"Go try to get some rest," Bruce ordered the pair of them. "We'll… we'll talk about everything in the morning."

Dick nodded and let the fog of exhaustion fall over him, carrying him in a haze toward his bedroom and into a restless sleep. The rest of the sights and sounds of that night blurred together, and he couldn't be positive about what happened later. He couldn't be sure of the words Bruce and Alfred exchanged, and he was not certain he heard Bruce break down in a way he hadn't since his parents had been gunned down in front of him.

The only thing he knew was Little Wing was gone, and nothing was okay.

* * *

**August 28, 2017 03:43 - Infinity Island**

"Why did you bring us here?" Nightwing asked Talia, struggling to keep from staring at Jason.

"Certain wrongs needed to be righted," she stated simply.

"Jason's death?"

How someone could look judgmental, bored, and intimidating was almost lost on Nightwing. Except he had seen that look before a few times in his years as a budding hero. She and Bruce really did have more in common than he realized sometimes.

"One of many," she said, glancing between her _beloved_ battling her father and the still Jason in front of them. "His resurrection was not what we hoped."

* * *

**I almost ended it at the second scene, but didn't want to be completely cruel...**

**-Defective**


	13. Chapter 13

**Not going to lie, this was a difficult chapter to write. Some of this may have been because of getting back into personal writing and due to work focus, and some because of a slight bit of self-doubt. Eh, we all hit that, right? Anyway, this is a slightly shorter chapter to get me back into the swing of things, so I hope you enjoy it. There are some good parts (in my head, at least) coming up, so hopefully they can live up to expectations. **

**Anyway, without any further ado, here you go!**

* * *

**August 28, 2017 03:45 - Infinity Island**

"What exactly do you mean his resurrection was not what you had hoped?" Dick could be patient. Hell, out of all the bats and birds, he liked to believe he was pretty high up on the patience scale. So, hearing his newly resurrected brother (he was still processing the whole 'resurrected' bit, by the way) may have come back with issues tipped some sort of internal scale. At this point, he really couldn't care how sharp the daggers Talia was glaring at him were, nor did he care how many real daggers she probably had on her. All he cared about was his little brother and whatever the heck they had done to him.

It was this look in his eyes that probably saved his skin, and he knew it. While Talia was by no means a horrible, sadistic freak like Joker, she also didn't take kindly to some teenager speaking to her like she was a child who said her homework assignment didn't pan out quite right. Then again, perhaps it was that her little demon spawn responded before she could behead him for his snark.

"You dare challenge an al Ghul?" the boy snapped.

Damian stepped forward, fully prepared to launch an attack until Jason stepped in front of him. Dick watched, at first believing he was simply preventing a fight. Then he saw the slightly bent knees, the curling fingers, the squaring jaw.

"You're protecting him? I haven't even done anything to him," Dick shot toward Jason.

His younger brother didn't respond. Instead, he pulled Damian further behind him, savage eyes staring into Dick's. Perfect. The last thing he really wanted was another damn fight with the formerly dead/currently half-cocked bird.

Clicking heels once again rung out over the noises in the chamber, Talia approaching Jason and resting a gentle hand on her shoulder. "It's alright. He's not going to hurt him. Will you?"

She turned her gaze toward Dick, who stared at the scene before shaking his head. "No, I don't want to hurt anyone. I just want answers."

"Is that all you want?" she asked, arching a perfectly-shaped-eyebrow at him.

"And my brother back."

"That may not be as simple," she stated.

Dick prepared to lunge, the thread of any sanity he had left frayed to near breaking, when a simple command changed everything.

"A-41," Talia said, barely above a whisper.

Just then, as if a snap had rung out around them, the dynamic of the room changed. The half-dead, masked men turned away from Bruce, the team, and the bats to focus on each other. The green helmets moved away from their previous targets, instead focusing their attention on the assassins and, before he realized it, Damian.

It was only when a sharp strike from one of the green helmets was met with a counter attack from Jason that Dick knew what was happening. The resurrected men were fighting amongst themselves, if not outright against their trainers. He turned toward Jason, prepared to see snarling and biting the same way some of the masked men began to look, but he stood steady. Instead, he focused all his attention on protecting Damian.

"What did you do?!" Dick yelled toward Talia.

"Control room. Video receiver B-827."

"What the hell is that supposed to get me?" He snapped.

"You'll find out, won't you?"

* * *

**September 5, 2014 23:04 - Gotham**

The funeral was… nice. It was the only word he could think of to describe it. With only their closest friends able to come, and even then only when even Jim Gordon had left, it had remained a small affair. Still, having Wally, Barbara, Artemis, Kaldur, Conner, M'gann, Donna, and Zatanna there helped lessen some of the pain from the loss. Just slightly.

Who was he kidding? It hurt like hell, and nothing was taking it away.

Bruce still kept to himself most of the time in the cave, running statistics about what he could have done differently or, worse, what Nightwing could have done differently. If anything came up, he didn't say anything. Instead, he just kept to the cave. As if it were the only place safe from the ghosts of what Jason left behind.

His room soon became a shrine. Dick hated that word, but it was the only was to describe what was left of the teenage fortress. Homework, half-read books, and posters decorated the otherwise opulent bedroom. Jason had never felt comfortable with all the carved wood and guilted corners, so he made a mess here and there to make it feel more worthy of someone like him. Now? Now Dick hated it. It carried too much of his personality. Felt so horribly like Jason that he could swear any minute now he was going to cross through from the bathroom and ask him what the hell he was doing in his bedroom.

Even Tim had taken to hiding himself away. It had been bad enough when the younger boy's parents had been killed, but now he had lost someone he saw as a brother, as a mentor and a potential equal. It had only been a few months now that Tim had taken to training to replace Jason, but now the boy's mixed feelings meant his sessions were all or nothing. Either they were half-assed or self-destructive. Dick worried about the boy's mental state now that someone else he had loved had been taken from him so violently.

Then again, he worried for everyone in the house. Bruce lost a son, Tim lost what could have been an older brother but was clearly already a friend, Alfred lost a grandson, and he…

"Little Wing…" Dick sighed, holding his forehead as he rested his arm against the bat computer.

Suddenly, the computer beeped and shifted screens. Surprised from his sadness, Dick looked up to see the monitor change to a simple flashing red dot and a straight blue line. A message, he realized.

"Begin message? Confirm or deny," the computer said.

"Confirm," Dick said.

Soon, the blue line moved, floating in an odd rhythm like a ribbon. Dick waited as some shuffling and scratching in the background gave way to a voice.

"Dick…"

Breathless, in obvious pain, but it was him. Dick knew it was Jason. How long had this been here, waiting for him? He had to think for a moment about the date, realizing it had been over a week. More than a week and this had just been sitting there.

"Dick, I… know I could turn on video, but I… I don't want you… want you to see," he said.

His voice was strained. Was his throat damaged? No, no. He would sound scratchier. His voice sounded the same only breathless and distant. Punctured lung, Dick figured. God, what the hell had happened to him?

"I just… I wanted to say… I wanted to say I was sorry. I'm sorry. Not… not for following Sheila. I thought about it… I'd do it again. A hundred times, I'd do it again. I just… I'm sorry for this. I'm sorry for not listening to you more. Not now, but for other times. For making you feel like you did wrong. You didn't. This… this isn't your fault. It's mine. I chose this. Don't… don't get all upset about it. It's not you. What is it they tell girls? It's not you, it's me?"

He tried to chuckle, but coughed instead, air struggling to get into his lungs. "Sorry, just… just a joke. I know you'd never say that to anyone, and you taught me not to…"

Dick felt a wet streak roll down his face. Soon the tear was followed by another as it dawned on him he was listening to some of his brother's last breaths. He had been murdered; he knew that already. Just now, before the results of his death fully came in, he knew the boy had been tortured beforehand. Blunt force trauma could have been caused by a great number of things, but it was now that Dick knew some of it had been caused beforehand.

A fifteen-year-old boy, barely a teenager and just beginning to discover his place in the world, had been tortured mercilessly and blown to hell thanks to a psychopath. No, Jason didn't ask for that. No one, let alone a child, a young hero who wanted nothing but the best for victims of heinous crimes, deserved to go like that.

Yet, he had, and Dick was made to listen to the breathless gasps of his final moments.

"I just… I wanted to say I was sorry. And to thank you. For everything. Really… I know you think I'm crazy right now but… but being Robin? It gave me magic. It was the best thing to ever happen to me…. I know you're going to blame yourself for this. Don't. I did this. I chose this. I wanted to help. I hope I did. She… she's leaving now. Trying to. Dick, there's a bomb… I… Well, if you can't get here in time and if Da-… if Bruce can't get here in time, it's okay. It's not your fault. I'm okay. Really. Bruce, Dick, I'm okay."

The eldest bird was surprised to suddenly hear his adoptive father's name. Yet, sure enough, he sensed the man behind him. How had Jason known he would be there? Dick wanted to laugh. Of course he knew. For as observant as they all were, it was Jason out of the rest of them that could rival Alfred's sense of perception.

Bruce approached Dick, resting a heavy but gentle hand on his shoulder. Together, they watched as the dancing blue line approached its last few moments. Listened as Jason approached his.

"I'm okay. I just… thanks again. And sorry… again. Mostly, I wanted to say I… I lo… You're the best things that have happened to me. Both of you, and Alfred, and Tim, and Babs, and… and Donna… and everyone else. I would have… would have been dead before now. On the streets…"

Another voice chimed in at that moment, sending a nauseating chill through Nightwing.

"10…"

Jason's voice hitched but, soon, as "9" passed, he continued. "So, thanks. Don't let this keep… keep either of you from what you're doing. You're… you're great. The greatest, like Tim said. I'll be okay. I promise."

The clock continued to count down, and Bruce's hand tightened on Dick's shoulder just slightly as Jason's breathing became more shallow and rapid.

"I'll be fine… I'll just do as you taught me, Bruce. I'll… I'll close my eyes…"

"3…"

"Take a deep breath…"

"2…"

"I'll feel better soon…"

"1…"

"I promise."

"0."

* * *

**August 28, 2017 03:57 - Infinity Island**

In the midst of the chaos, Nightwing had no idea how he was supposed to get through to the video control room with everyone together, get what Talia had said, and get the hell out. Though, truth be told the random turnaround in fighting had helped.

"You have ten minutes before their programming takes over," she told him, already moving toward the steps leading toward Bruce and her father.

"Programming? Is Jason programmed?!"

"He never took to it," she told him, turning to look at him fully in the eyes.

"He never took to it? So what the hell did you mean? Is that why his resurrection didn't go as planned?! He didn't obey orders?!"

Dick knew he was approaching the line, but he couldn't give a damn. He glanced back toward his siblings, Jason fighting to protect Damian and Tim battling to protect them both. Why, for once, couldn't they have been normal? Couldn't things have been easier?

"You'll find out," she said.

Dick had prepared her to snap at him, to call him something foul and explain in no uncertain terms how useless he was. He knew that was beneath her, but he was more expected than what came next.

She rested a gentle hand on his shoulder, her eyes gazing up toward her father and her beloved, the men finally pulled apart thanks to the insanity surrounding them. "He needs you. Just get to B-827, take everyone, and go. I can only hold everyone off for ten minutes, so you damn well better hurry."

"Why are you doing this?"

"Why else?" she said, though didn't elaborate. She just sent him one of her rare smiles, small but genuine, before dashing toward her father.

Dick took that as his cue. Ten minutes in a maze of high walls and military weapons was practically a blip. It would be a miracle if they all managed to get out without issue, but it was better than nothing. With a sharp whistle, he was able to get the attention of those nearby, the psychic link springing back to life.

"We need to get out," he informed everyone. "Toward the video control room."

"That's in the northwest corridor, just inside of the walls," Tim said.

"All right, so we just need to get there, grab something, and get the hell out."

"That's it?" Tigress said. "Mission aborted?"

"No. We're taking Damian and Jason with us. I don't give a damn how, but they're coming. We need to get them, get to the video control room, get one of the tapes, and get the hell out in ten minutes. Think we can manage that?"

Silence, then a growl interrupted the silence crackling around them.

"We can manage that," Batman told them.

He turned to Talia, her deep brown eyes staring into his. A silent conversation, thick with emotion, seemed to hang between them for a few moments before they tore their eyes away.

"We can get there," he insisted once more.

"Batman—" Nightwing started uncertainly.

Bruce stared down at his oldest adoptive son, exchanging a look the boy knew all too well. In that brief moment of eyelets to eyelets, he could see the strained emotion in the man's eyes. Knew what he was trying to say.

They just needed to take a deep breath and move on. Everything would be okay. He promised.

* * *

**Quick note: **

**I included the people at the funeral because of who I believed, timeline-wise, would know who Dick was at that point. Zatanna (according to an Ask Greg post) was legally a ward of Bruce Wayne while living at Mount Justice, I believe, and I think the main team would have found out soon enough. I also believe some of their mentors would have been there, but it is the team Dick would have been focused on. **


End file.
